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Beneath

Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Four – Shapes

By the time the late afternoon break came, Loki's nerves had worked themselves into a frenzy. He found a deserted corridor and paced, wishing to slam a few dozen knives or at least a fist into something, but he had no suitable target. He felt trapped, the corridor and the entire palace pressing in on him. On the wall beside him hung a wide tapestry depicting a long-ago battle between Asgardian and Svartalf cavalry. Both sides looked noble and proud astride their steeds. Rather different from anything representing the Ice War. There wasn't much else to even look at in this corridor.

He needed to be outdoors. But outdoors he could be seen, and he could not be seen in this state, ready to strike the first person who said something he didn't like, or anything at all. He would have to wear a mask, and at the moment he could not bear it. He didn't have enough time to let Lifhilda carry him far away. At the risk of seeing Jane – he also couldn't bear the thought of taking his terrible mood out on her, not now – he decided instead to head for the garden, hurrying through the palace, into the private wing, and outdoors in the one place he could be assured of privacy. Of the three others who had access, two were outside the city, and one was in the throne room.

As it turned out, though, he still wasn't alone.

A grizzled old man holding pruning shears stood from where he'd been bent over. "Good afternoon, my prince. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone to be here. I'll just-"

"Get out."

The gardener, somewhere in between Odin's generation and his own, reddened scar running down the side of his face, registered shock for just a second before making a quick bow and heading for the door. Loki held his hand out and the man let him take the shears on his way to the door.

The gardener's efforts were clear. Loki had arrived through the garden when he'd come to leave Thor a message through The Art of War; since then the grass had been trimmed, but there were far more weeds now than then, except around the topiary the man had been trimming. The first three letters of "FAMILY" were well-shaped again. Loki walked up to the bushes. He'd wanted to destroy something.

When he dropped the shears and turned his back, nothing but shapeless stubs remained. He'd thought it would make him feel better, at least bleed off some of his anger. It hadn't. This garden he associated mostly with his childhood and youth. With happy times. Climbing trees, playing games, eating at the table or sprawled out on the grass, watching the animals, building bird feeders and coming up with ever more inventive ideas to keep the squirrels and tree dassies away from them. He'd never come out here alone in those days, and the nursemaids of his youngest years weren't allowed; those memories all included family.

Looking at the stubby bushes, he remembered staring at one just like it with growing horror, tears pooling in his eyes, well aware he was not alone and wishing he was. Thor had grown bored and gone off to do something else, but Loki had been so determined, and had for once not given in and followed.

Mother appeared at his side, and now all hope was gone of somehow wiping away the tears without anyone noticing. "I'm sorry," he said, keeping his head down to hide them. "I ruined it."

"No, you haven't ruined it."

"Yes, I have. There's hardly anything left."

"It's a bush, Loki," Father called from where he sat behind him. "It isn't dead. It will grow back."

The tears started building again; he'd hoped his father was too engrossed in his book to notice him. Not that he wouldn't eventually notice this little blob of a bush that looked nothing at all like a rabbit's head anyway. Mother drew him into her arms and he pressed his face to her and a kerchief gently wiped at his tears.

"Do you think Edny will be upset?" he asked when his eyes were dry and tears under control.

"No, sweet boy. Of course she won't be. You know your interest pleases her, and she'll also be pleased that you wanted to try."

"But I ruined it," he insisted.

"Were you expecting master-level gardening on your first attempt? You have much to learn about hard work, Loki, and this was a good lesson."

"I did work hard, Father. I tried hard."

"Tell Edny to come to the garden," Father called.

Loki's eyes widened and his stomach sank.

Mother sighed. "Come on, Loki. Have some water. You have been working hard."

Loki sipped from the glass put in his hand, while his father, bare feet up on the stool, continued his reading and his mother asked a few questions about his lessons that Loki answered minimally, too distracted to put any thought into it.

"Good afternoon," Edny said when she arrived, fist over her chest. "How may I serve, Your Majesty?"

"Our budding gardener has run into difficulty," Father said, pointing out to the topiary. Loki shrank down further on the bench in misery and humiliation. "I thought you might explain to him how long it took you to be able to wield a gardener's blades so well."

"Certainly, my lord. Wielding them is easy enough. Wielding them so that the end result is what you imagined…that does take time. Shall we go take a closer look?"

Loki nodded, because that was what he knew he was expected to do. He didn't know Edny well; she usually did her work when they weren't there. As they walked, Mother trailing behind them, Edny told him about her studies of botany and chemistry, and the many years she'd spent practicing in her own garden and learning from others, how she'd first worked with frames and strings and posts for her topiaries before shaping by sight. He knew about study and training, but didn't see the relevance. Surely you didn't need to know everything about the inner workings of a plant and the composition of the soil it grew in to make a few snips and give it the shape you wanted.

"What were you intending?"

"A rabbit's head," he mumbled.

"I see. You have a rough sphere here, that's the head, right?"

He nodded.

"And right here, an ear?"

Loki merely sighed, unable to muster even a nod. The "ear" was no more than a little bump of a few leaves sticking out.

"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself. My first few attempts looked something like this. And then…do you know what happened?"

Loki shook his head.

"I figured out the secret," she whispered.

Listening just enough to know whether he was meant to indicate a yes or a no, it took a moment for Edny's words to catch up to him. "What secret?" he asked with a stirring of curiosity.

"You can't make it be what it doesn't want to be."

Loki frowned and gave an annoyed huff. He hated being treated like he was stupid, or like he was five instead of eight. "Plants don't want to be things. They're just plants."

"I speak the truth, Loki. It's the most important thing to know about plants. Most never understand that, which is why I call it a secret. Shall I tell you more?"

"All right," Loki said. Not because he believed her talk of plants and secrets, but because his father had sent for her and Loki knew he had to accept her lesson or risk disappointing or even angering him.

Edny bent over to pick up the shears Loki had dropped. "Look at where you've tried to make an ear. Look at the twig these leaves are on. Does that twig have the shape or the angle of a rabbit's ear?"

Loki leaned in closer to look where she was pointing. The twig was angled toward him. "No."

"And is there anything the shears can do to change the angle of the twig?"

He looked at it a while longer, but of course, cutting it wouldn't change its angle, only its size. "No."

"How about this one? Doesn't this one remind you a bit more of a rabbit's ear?"

He peered at the twig she'd pushed some leaves away from. It stuck up, then curved back and down a little. Like a floppy ear. He nodded, still looking at the twig and trying to picture it as an ear.

Edny made a few trims, cutting further into the ever-shrinking blob he'd left, and a few seconds later it was much easier to picture the twig, little leaves back in place, forming an ear.

"It looks better. But that twig still didn't want to be an ear. You're just good at this." And I'm not, he added to himself. There was no need to say it aloud; the ruined bush in front of them said it clearly enough.

"Not consciously, no. But the only way to be good at this is to understand that secret. Plants are living things. All living things have preferred shapes. You must find the twig that says yes, I'm meant to become an ear. You can't force it to be something it hasn't invited you to."

Loki had decided later that Edny simply had a talent for quickly taking in the thousands of individual twigs on a bush and filtering out all but the ones that would ultimately yield the shape she desired, and her talk of secrets and preferred shapes was no more than fancy words meant to capture his imagination and make hedge-trimming sound interesting. He'd had little more to do with her, though he'd been aware of her death because it came not long after he'd had a brief dalliance with her granddaughter.

Such history here, all around him, everywhere he turned. Secrets and preferred shapes, he thought, closing his eyes and angling his face up to the sun. His mother would have heard every word. He wondered if she'd been frantically trying to figure out how to get Edny to shut up about all that before he started asking uncomfortable questions.

"Ah…excuse me, my lord."

Loki whirled around. "What," he said in low voice. The current gardener had returned; Loki watched as his gaze briefly shifted to the ruined topiary beside him. The set of Loki's face became even angrier. He was no longer worried about disappointing, or being reprimanded. This wasn't the embarrassing failure of a boy; it was deliberate. And it was…still somewhat embarrassing. It looked as though he had thrown a temper tantrum. Better had he just burned the entire garden up.

"I do apologize for disturbing you. His Majesty King Thor has requested your presence in the throne room."

"Has he? Well. I suppose I wouldn't want to keep His Majesty King Thor waiting. Why don't you make animals or something out of those," he said, gesturing toward the bushes. "No one here needs a spelling lesson." He didn't wait for a response.

His words to the gardener aside, Loki considered blowing off Thor's "request." But it might be important. It might be about Jane. He decided he would go.

When he arrived, Bragi was there, speaking with Thor, who was seated on the throne. Thor saw him first, then Bragi, who quickly took his leave in the opposite direction of Loki's approach. Thor, meanwhile, started to descend the stairs, but Loki met him at the short landing halfway up.

"Don't get up on my account."

"I've been sitting too long," Thor said, though he was certain Loki knew he simply didn't want to make Loki come to him on the throne.

"Receiving good news, I assume. Perhaps they'll even package him up in an exquisitely carved box for you."

"Bragi said there's no final decision yet."

"I'm sure Bragi also said that that's only a formality. Svartalfheim and Alfheim are still bickering, but bilgesnipe still have scales, too, don't they? They've already given signals that they'll put their support behind Asgard. You must be very happy."

"I wouldn't say-"

"Don't pretend this isn't what you wanted."

"It is what I wanted. That doesn't mean it makes me happy, when I know it's not what you wanted."

Loki threw a glance out over the throne room; they'd kept their voices down and no one appeared to be paying them much attention at the moment. Objectively, it was true what he'd tried to keep reminding himself: it didn't actually matter who formally won the claim on Brokk. That didn't change the fact that it did matter to him, in some maddening and illogical way.

"Why do you want him so badly? What would you even do with him if you won? You have no prison of your own to hold him in, no separate magistrates."

"Who says I need any of those things?"

"You're saying you would, what? Serve as magistrate yourself? Invent your own laws? And find him guilty of what, exactly? Or perhaps you want to lock him up in your chambers and beat him several times a day?"

"Watch your voice," Loki hissed. Thor's volume had been rising, a few heads had turned. Loki didn't particularly care if anyone knew what they were talking about; he'd made no secret of his feelings about Brokk in the treaty negotiations. But it wasn't in his best interest right now to be seen in such open conflict with Thor. "Why did you send for me, anyway?"

Thor glanced around and saw gazes quickly averted. "Come to my office. I don't want to worry about others hearing."

"Well?" he asked as soon as they were alone.

"I wanted to talk to you about Brokk. You're right. Bragi told me everyone will support Asgard's claim. Everyone except you. And I don't want this to come between us."

"Yes, it would be terrible if anything were to come between us."

"I don't want anything more to come between us, Loki. Not if I can help it. If you would tell me why this is so important to you, and what you really want from it…perhaps there's something I can do. Perhaps it's possible to give you at least some of what you want."

"He betrayed me. Is that not enough?"

"He dropped your name to Vigdis, to cast doubt on you and your role in the war. And the initial idea to name you alongside the Tesseract and the Ice Casket may have come from him. But others lent their support to that decision. Why are you so focused on Brokk? Is it only because you were once friends? I thought you'd had a falling out years ago."

Loki, inspecting a rug, kept his head down but lifted his gaze to fix Thor with a withering look. "What difference does it make?" he asked when Thor didn't continue. "Is this really all you wanted? You're wasting my time. Yours as well."

Thor took a few steps further into the office and perched on the desk. "If our positions were reversed," he said, thinking aloud, "I would tell you exactly why this claim mattered so much to me. But you…you won't tell me anything. And when you won't explain yourself, it's easy to assume…" His father's words came back to him: "I tend to assume the best of you." His father's deeds: he was given the benefit of the doubt, and Loki was not. Different circumstances, yes. And yet… "It's easy to assume something less than honorable. By my way of thinking, if it were honorable, you would not hesitate to tell it. But you and I have never thought the same way about things, have we?"

"Less than honorable," Loki quietly echoed a moment later. So that's what he was thinking. Of course it was. "You still think I colluded with Brokk in some way?"

"No. But I don't know what to think. How can I, when you won't talk to me? But no matter. When the treaty is signed, Asgard will have permission to send a team of warriors to capture him, wherever he may be. If you wish it, you will be one of them. Nothing in the treaty will forbid it."

Loki slowly drew his head back in surprise, now looking down over his nose at Thor. That was a surprise. Had Thor not realized that he could not be trusted in this? That when he pursued Brokk there would be only him, no team? As soon as they reached Svartalfheim or whichever realm Brokk had been found on, he would sabotage their efforts and abandon them to capture Brokk on his own. Thor had to know that. Didn't he? "You choose to trust me," he said, a question delivered as a statement, full of skepticism with an edge of mocking.

"I choose to take a risk."

Loki didn't know what to say. This was neither the Thor of his nightmares nor of his memories, neither intentionally or unintentionally cruel nor blithely foolish. The other Thor, though, either of the others, could not possibly be too far away. "You wouldn't, if you knew the truth," he said, voice dripping with calculated menace.

Thor regarded Loki with confusion. Loki had insisted on joining those sent to capture Gullveig. Now he was trying to sabotage his opportunity to do the same with Brokk? He was trying to talk Thor out of granting him something he wanted, and making himself seem more suspicious in the process? It made no sense. Loki was making no sense. Thor gave a wan smile. "I won't go back on my words."

"Even if I told you I intend to kill him?"

The words, Thor thought, contained the same message, the same dark tone. But the malevolent expression on Loki's face had faltered, just for an instant. Thor was certain of it. "It's a mask he wears. To push others away," he remembered Jane telling him quietly in the tent. Is this a mask? It doesn't look false. But he knew he had seen that flicker of something else. "You aren't a murderer," he finally said, when he remembered he still needed to give an answer.

Loki smiled darkly. "You may want to rethink that statement."

"You have killed. But you are not a murderer. Not like that."

It was a flip of a switch, instantaneous. No thought put into it at all. "I sought him out. I was looking for someone who could remove Odin's magic. I had no idea a war was underway, much less that I'd been named a prize."

"This is when you used our old secret passage?"

"Yes. If you're missing anyone who followed me, by the way, you may want to ask Svartalfheim about them, on the outside chance they're still alive. They excavated a deep pit beneath the other end, and lined the sides and bottom with spikes. Quite the welcome."

"None followed. Thank you for telling me. I'll ensure…Loki…imagine if it had been like that when we discovered it." It was such a long time ago, but he still remembered that flash of terror when that perfectly normal cave had turned out to be a portal, depositing him in some unknown place, completely alone.

"Yes. You would have been skewered, and if I had been lucky your body would have cushioned me," Loki said brusquely. He'd already taken a stroll down that particular memory lane, and had no desire to retread it. He allowed himself a few seconds to enjoy Thor's sour look before continuing. "When I reached Brokk's home I found him communing with Thanos's chief lackey, the nameless one who says he may be called 'The Other.' Don't interrupt," he said, talking over Thor. "No, The Other was not on Svartalfheim. Brokk has a way of harnessing dark magic. Lately he's been using it to journey without his body, consciousness alone. Guess who he met while he was floating around out there?"

Thor nodded his understanding, even though this was all very strange for him, things Loki was familiar with and he was not. He'd never taken much of an interest before, and thought now he probably should have, if only to aid his grasp of concepts he himself would still never be able to put into practice.

"He discovered me there, with a dagger pressed to his throat – just a friendly hello – and dragged me out of my body and into their conversation for a little reunion. Thanos and his little minion know a great deal about me. They know what I am, beneath this lie."

"How? Surely you didn't tell them that, too." Thor knew Loki had guarded this secret ever since learning it, and that he'd told the Jotun princes only as a desperate last recourse.

"I was trapped in an endless abyss and somehow still alive despite my empty lungs. I didn't know how long I'd been drifting there, and I didn't know how long I would have drifted. They pulled me out. I would have told them anything. I would have kissed their boots if they'd asked. Instead they asked how I wound up in the void, and I told them. And I didn't stop there. I was so grateful for the sound of my own voice that I told them everything. They kept asking, and I kept telling. It was cathartic," he flippantly added as unpleasant memories loomed larger. He would never forget that moment, the last exhale, the terrifying sensation of lungs trying to pull in air and straining and desperate and there was simply nothing to inhale. The freezing cold that led first to tremors and then to immobility, despite no sign of any damage to his body. The realization that his fall had no end, and that death wasn't coming. That this was now his life. For the next four thousand years. Unable to scream his frustration and horror, because screaming required breath.

His memories of the early days on Thanos's rocky abode were jumbled, incomplete, fleeting impressions. He hadn't been thinking clearly then; if he had he wouldn't have mindlessly babbled away at them as he had. He remembered he hadn't been able to stand at first. He remembered being propped up against something soft and warm. He remembered whispering a slurred "thank you," or something similar, in a neverending stream of words. A hand wiping his brow, and a different hand, a woman's, softly grasping his and not protesting when he clamped down on it with returning strength. Kind eyes, on faces that looked similar to his. "What happened?" Crying. Reassurances. Answering through the tears. Coming up on his knees. Still talking, tears drying up. Coming to his feet. Shouting. Screaming. Ranting. Pacing. Forgetting his saviors were even there, except in the moments when he finally fell silent and another question came. He must have looked like a madman. Thor, he realized, perhaps thought he still did. Mad. Damaged. Weak. For a short while, right after his "rescue"…perhaps. Now, no.

"Don't look at me like that. I recovered my senses and my strength soon enough. But by then that particular secret was no longer secret."

"This is how you became Thanos's ally? You were grateful that you were rescued?"

"More or less," Loki answered; he'd been over the gratefulness by the time that happened, but he was fine with Thor missing a few steps. "Sorry to disappoint you. He was offering something I wanted, don't forget. I'm sure that had it been you, you would have made no alliances. In fact I'm sure you would have spoken nothing but taunts as you struck them all down at first sight."

"I'm not disappointed. I'm…I'm angry that you were put in that position in the first place. Angry at myself that I couldn't stop you from falling. And who knows what I would have done had it been me? I certainly never imagined I would be discussing positions for negotiating Asgard's surrender. I don't think it's possible to be certain what you would or wouldn't do in extreme situations you've never experienced before."

That, Loki thought, did not sound like Thor at all, and it threw him enough to leave him little shy of dumbfounded. Thor was the walking personification of boastful bravado, and had been his entire life. Yet Loki was certain he was being sincere; he had never been any better with false humility than he had with the real thing. This, somehow, was the same Thor who had charged into Jotunheim with precisely five others, five others he'd been happy to see leave without him while he stayed behind to take on all of Jotunheim. By himself. It wasn't the first time Thor had surprised him. But somehow it kept surprising Loki.

"Back to Brokk then," Thor said, still distracted by thoughts about the sheer bad luck of who had happened to finally pull Loki from the abyss that Thor hadn't been able to stop him from falling into. "He pulled you into his 'communing' with Thanos, and Thanos told Brokk who you were born to?"

"It would be more accurate to say he gave him a little demonstration. But yes, Brokk knows, too. In that state I couldn't attack and I couldn't extricate myself. Brokk's first choice was to leave me there permanently; he volunteered me to be tortured for the rest of my life. When the lackey wasn't interested, Brokk decided instead to leave me immobilized on Asgard. He wanted me to be captured and surrendered to the Frost Giants. And all the while he used skills that I had freely taught him to cloak his actions from Heimdall's view. Do you see now? It's personal."

Tortured? For the rest of your life? Thor agreed; it was personal. His own desire to capture Brokk was approaching Loki's level of fervor. And to taunt Loki with the fact that he was Jotun…. Thor wondered how Loki could have ever called that man a friend. "How did you escape?" he asked once his anger had crested and settled.

"Tricks," Loki answered drily, "after my mind found home in my body again. And later he opened a portal to Asgard and I went through with him, invisible. I observed him meeting with Vigdis. That's how I learned about her."

Thor nodded. "Then you can give a statement against Brokk, too. Did he mistreat her?"

"He grabbed her roughly, he threatened her…"

"Yes?" Thor prompted, wondering if there was more. Loki's statement might prove to be more useful than his and Maeva's, for they had not observed him physically abusing her.

Loki had forgotten Vigdis entirely. An idea had occurred to him. Brokk had opened a portal, using a Svartalf talisman. It didn't belong to Brokk; the talismans belonged to and were strictly controlled by Svartalfheim's rulers. As one of a small number capable of operating them with ease, and a central figure behind the war itself, he'd apparently been granted temporary possession of one of them. And if he'd gone directly from hero to fugitive in the eyes of those rulers, he most likely had not handed over the artifact before going on the run. And what better item to have on hand when one was on the run? More portable than the bifrost, Pathfinder, and even the Tesseract. Loki, unfortunately, had never had a chance to study one of the them, and knew almost nothing about them. How exactly they worked. Whether they could be tracked. "Has anyone studied Svartalfheim's talisman use during the war?"

"No, not that I'm aware of."

"Maeva would know the most about them, then?"

"Yes, I think so. Tyr and Bragi are also very familiar with them. Perhaps Heimdall, too. You're thinking…if Brokk opened a portal to Asgard, then Brokk has one of the talismans in his personal use. And perhaps if we can't find Brokk, we can find the talisman?"

"I don't know. Possibly. It's all we've got-" Loki began before cutting himself off. There was no "we" here, not for him.

"I'll send for Maeva right away," Thor said. "Bragi and Tyr, too. We can ask Father when he returns, as well."

"Bragi…"

"Yes, Bragi and Tyr have both fought with and against the Dark Elves. They may have some insight," Thor said, already standing by the door. But Loki had that look on his face, that look that said something important had come to mind. Thor waited.

"Bragi said Nadrith was captured with an amulet that sends a signal to a corresponding talisman."

"Yes," Thor said nodding. Thinking. "Yes. We think each of their commanders here had one, to signal for a return portal. Do you think Nadrith's corresponds to the one Brokk had? But everyone knows Nadrith has been captured. Surely no one would respond to a signal from his amulet, especially not Brokk."

"I don't know. But I think I want that amulet. And I want to talk to Nadrith. Now."

/


/

Jane jumped at the loud bang.

"Get behind me. Both of you," Jolgeir ordered over the pounding of approaching boots.

Nadrith stood his ground, eyes casting about for something he could use as a weapon, but Jane had no qualms about obeying. She let out a gasp of relief when Loki burst through the open doorway, immediately followed by Thor. "Hi," she said; Loki responded with a polite but perfunctory nod, and Thor seemed caught off guard by her presence.

"Lady Jane," Thor said. "I trust your lesson is going well?"

Jane nodded, her enthusiasm dampened by curiosity and the remnants of fear. She and Nadrith had been standing beside a reusable easel, working through a diagram of the energy transference system that Alfheim's solar canopies used.

"I'm afraid you'll be far behind if you try to join us now. Lady Jane is a sharp student."

"Another time, perhaps," Loki said. He'd known Jane would probably still be here, and had prepared himself not to react to seeing her. It was a poor time for a reunion. "Each of these," he said, holding out his hand and letting the yellow amulet dangle from its gold chain, "is bound to a particular Svartalf talisman." It wasn't a question; this much they already knew, confirmed by Maeva, Bragi, and Tyr. "To which talisman is yours bound?"

Nadrith didn't immediately answer; having spent some time with him, Jane could see the gears turning in his head. She was intensely curious about the object Loki held – she was guessing it was another magic necklace – and what exactly a Svartalf talisman was, but both brothers were fully focused on Nadrith now and she knew she would have to save her questions.

A smile slid across Nadrith's face before he spoke. "To Brokk's. I was advised that Brokk was the most reliable. The most skilled with the talisman. The most trustworthy. Ironic, isn't it? Brokk handled each of my journeys to other realms."

It was the answer they'd hoped for, Jane could tell by Thor's reaction.

"Does it require you personally to activate it?" Loki asked.

"It does not. But I wouldn't recommend activating it. Assuming Brokk still has the talisman and assuming he would still open a responding portal, a trap is sure to be on the other side of it."

Loki had heard all he needed to, and turned to go while Nadrith was still speaking.

"If I'm delayed this evening," Thor said, glancing at the quickly receding figure of his brother, "make other arrangements for Jane, Jolgeir."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Jolgeir answered, and Thor, too, was gone.

A few seconds later, the door closed – loudly, though not quite a slam. Nadrith was staring at nothing in particular; Jolgeir met her gaze but wore a neutral expression that was anything but casual. "Okay, what was that all about?"

Nadrith's gaze focused and settled on her. "I believe they may have come up with a means of pursuing Brokk. A Dark Elf who's wanted on every realm for his role in instigating this war."

"I know who he is," Jane said. She would never forget Loki telling her what had happened to him on Svartalfheim, what he later told her was Brokk's doing. Fire needles and consciousness-sucking and pain directly into his brain. Consciousness-sucking… "You don't know any reason why Loki would be standing around looking like his brain checked out of his body?" What happened at Tony's wasn't some kind of waking nightmare. When Loki had those nightmares, he was deeply asleep, but he wasn't a zombie. This was different. Consciousness-sucking. "Hold on a second," she said, taking off for the door.

She came to a quick halt at the banister. Down below, near the bottom, she caught a glimpse of two figures, one in a flash of red. "Hey!"

They stopped and looked up; it was definitely them.

She hadn't gotten as far as figuring out what exactly she wanted to say. What she was going to shout from all the way up here. And they were clearly in a hurry. "Be careful," she said, just loud enough that she was certain they could hear.

"We will," Thor called up.

Jane watched as Loki's head dropped and twisted toward Thor. "Be careful," she said again, even quieter. Loki looked up again, and it was hard to tell given the distance, but she could swear he crooked a smile before they both set off again and disappeared.

/


/

"There is no 'we' in this," Loki said as they left the staircase and made their way to where Bragi and Maeva were waiting, a large vestibule not too far from the negotiations chamber. Loki had no need of them any longer, but Thor was headed there, and since Loki was still thinking things through it was easier to follow for the moment than to set his own course.

Thor started to argue, but shook his head and held his tongue.

"Well?" Maeva said as soon as they entered.

Presumptuous as ever, Loki thought. He had learned, though, that Maeva had seen how afraid Vigdis was of Brokk, and had her own dislike of the man for how he'd treated the underaged girl.

"It's as we hoped," Thor said. "The amulet is linked to Brokk's talisman. And anyone can activate it."

"Assuming he's telling the truth," Loki added. "Though I think he is."

"It's logical," Bragi said. "You wouldn't want your army's escape to depend solely on a single individual being able to signal the talisman."

"We leave Nadrith out of it then," Thor said.

Loki shot him a sideways glare and barely managed to hold back an eye-roll. Thor seemed to think this was a group effort. It wasn't.

"We still don't know if the signal can be tracked," Maeva said.

"No," Thor agreed. "But if it can't, then this plan has simply failed before it's begun."

"If the talisman itself can be tracked, even when inactive, then the Dark Elves will have already been searching for it. Brokk would know that, and would leave it behind."

"Yes, Maeva, thank you for the lesson in stating the obvious," Loki said.

"You're welcome," she responded icily.

Loki ignored her, and focused on Thor. He was simply impatient; there was no need for these consultations. "This was my idea, and it either works or it doesn't. Further discussion won't change that. I'm going." Heimdall, he thought, might grant him leave. But if Thor granted permission, galling as the thought was, it would eliminate one obstacle.

"You can't."

"I told you what this means to me. Why this matters. Are you really going to ignore that, after everything you said last night?"

"You really can't, my prince."

Loki closed his eyes for a moment. Thor had been wavering, he thought. He'd at least felt a flare of guilt, and Loki could work with that. Instead, Bragi had spoken up. When he fixed his gaze on the diplomatic advisor, it was with a murderous glare.

"I apologize for speaking out of turn. I feel I must remind you, though, that this treaty is not yet in place. You are still, technically, wanted on the other realms. We're still technically at war with the other realms, and operating under a truce. You cannot go off to some other realm capturing a citizen of Svartalfheim."

"Was it two days ago that I did precisely that on Vanaheim? Three now? It's so easy to lose track."

"As an act of war, yes. Acts of war would be highly ill-advised at this time."

"Cede your claim, Loki."

At those unexpected words, Loki rounded on Thor. "Have you lost your mind?"

"I don't believe so, no. Brokk remains under dispute, correct? But we all know Asgard's going to win that claim. If you cede yours, then Bragi, you can resolve it quickly, yes? In Asgard's favor?"

Bragi nodded, considering it for a moment. "If Loki cedes and also throws his support behind Asgard's claim, then yes, I should be able to resolve it very quickly in Asgard's favor."

"Can you also gain their agreement that Asgard may begin pursuing Brokk as soon as that is officially noted in the treaty text, without having to wait for signatures and seals?"

"I believe so, yes. Everyone knows the endpoint. No one has real incentive to delay Asgard from pursuing him. The arguments continue for now simply as a point of pride. However…if you attempt to locate him using the amulet, and you succeed, you'd best do it quietly, and not return with him until we do have that language officially in place. Bring him back here before then and you could jeopardize the entire treaty."

Thor nodded. "Cede your claim, Loki. And we can go immediately."

Thoughts of Thor being due more credit than Loki had initially deigned to give him – Thor's idea was truly a good one – were wiped out with one little pronoun. "I cede my claim. But there is still no 'we.' You're not coming with me."

Thor let out a frustrated growl. "I suppose I now know something of what you always endured trying in vain to talk sense into me. Ceding your claim doesn't give you the right to go after Brokk. It gives Asgard that right."

"Do you now mean to tell me I am not of Asgard?" Loki asked, voice dropping so low it was barely audible.

"Of course not. But you went to great pains to establish yourself as separate from Asgard in the treaty negotiations. You sought your own place at the table. You are the sole Asgardian who cannot pursue Brokk." Thor took a steadying breath, then continued before Loki's clearly visible rage could boil over and make things worse. "Not on your own, anyway."

"He's right, my prince," Bragi quietly put in after a few moments of standoff between Thor and Loki. "If you want to preserve the treaty negotiations, and the treaty itself…he's right. Another Asgardian must accompany you. Any other."

Thor kept his eyes fixed on Loki. It wasn't going to be "any other." It was going to be him. He was going with Loki. He would make sure that Loki did nothing rash, and that he wasn't harmed by Thanos or The Other or even Brokk. Loki was a fine warrior with literal tricks up his sleeve, but much as he decried sentiment, in this matter his emotions clearly – and understandably – ran high, and caused him to not think as clearly as he should.

Loki took a few steps away, to think without all of the eyes on him, unwilling to make the effort to keep his face clear. Instinct told him to go. To outrun Thor and anyone else if he had to, convince Heimdall to send him, and go. Who cared if it caused a problem for Asgard's treaty? It would cause a delay in its signing, or even send the negotiations back to the beginning – it was highly unlikely to prompt the other realms to resume attacking Asgard. That was especially so now that Asgard had had a few days to start repairs and heal many injured warriors. Asgard was hardly back to pre-war strength – it would take years, and centuries before the realm simply recovered from the loss of so many trained warriors – but it was stronger than when it had been on the brink of surrender. The problem was that despite all that, Loki cared; he had to, for his own sake. If a problem with the treaty arose now, caused by him no less, the ambassadors would probably refuse to return to an expedited negotiation process. They would instead insist on the traditional approach, the approach that could turn days into months or even years. And in the meantime, Loki would remain a fish on Odin's hook.

He could not find a way around it. He had to work within the strictures of the treaty. And that meant he had to bring someone with him. Not Thor! he shouted at himself. He wasn't ready to deal with Thor again, not for something like this. Maeva, came the whispered suggestion. Maeva might even be useful. Brokk used magic, and magic might be required to counter it. But Loki was shackle-free in that regard now; he could counter Brokk. And he hadn't worked with Maeva on anything magic-related in centuries; he hardly knew her now. If you took someone into battle with you, you took someone you knew how to fight with, not a virtual stranger you used to be in love with.

Loki knew how to fight with Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, and Sif. That certainly wasn't happening. He'd had a few acquaintances of his own over the years, none he would call friend now, certainly none he would drag with him to confront Brokk. No one else, either. Not Tyr, who Loki knew he could trust in a battle even if he didn't always like the man, not Hergils, not any random other Einherjar.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that loathe as he was to accept it, no one could join him but Thor. If Brokk ran his mouth about Loki's birth, his shame would reach no new ears.

Thor waited for Loki to come to the only rational conclusion. He couldn't imagine Loki being willing to risk anyone else hearing what Brokk knew. Heimdall couldn't leave, Eir was ill-prepared to fight if it came to that, their mother could hold her own in a fight but Thor knew Loki would never even consider bringing her, and their father Loki would consider a worse choice even than himself. In the end there was no real choice, but it was not his place to say so. Thor knew his place, and that he needed to allow Loki his.

And then Loki turned on his heel and pushed right past them. Thor watched in shock, then started to follow, then stopped, then started and stopped again. Bragi looked just as bewildered as Thor, and a second later hurried after Loki.

"Some people never change," Maeva said with a crooked smile.

Thor nodded. He wasn't sure exactly what she meant, that Loki was exasperating, or unpredictable, or recalcitrant, or something else. It didn't matter. "Some people do."

/


/

Loki burst into the negotiation chamber. A pity the door was ajar; it would have been more dramatic had he been able to throw it open. Almost all of the ambassadors were there - Rikolfur of Vanaheim had entered right before him, Bragi was closing in behind him, and only Kleipsum of Muspelheim was still missing, probably eking out as much time as possible in Muspelheim's more temperature-friendly chambers in the Ambassadorial Estates. He took a moment to meet the eyes of everyone there, not bothering with Bragi. "The direction of these proceedings in obvious and inevitable. As such, I hereby cede my claim on Brokk, and place my reluctant yet full support behind Asgard's claim, along with everyone else who already has or soon will. I refuse to be a part of this any longer, and I trust that in my absence you will continue to honor the agreements you have already made with regard to my other claims." He didn't wait for an answer. He didn't need one. He wasn't seeking their input, much less their permission.

He rounded the corner back the way he'd come, leaving Bragi behind. Thor had started to follow him but stopped partway down the long corridor; Maeva remained exactly where he'd left them. Stubborn. Smart. He wasn't bringing her on this hunt.

He reached Thor and kept right on going, though this route was longer. It wouldn't do to make a show of his frustration with Asgard's victory over Brokk, then head off beside Asgard's king. Asgard's king, though, still wasn't moving. "Are your boots mired in mud? Let's go!" he snapped.

/


Nothing much from me here this time, my brain shut down at least an hour ago. :-) Apologies for delays on responding to reviews and PMs, you know I'll get there, I appreciate every single review and enjoy responding, I just figured you probably all prefer me to focus on finally getting that next chapter done so I could get this one out at long last.

Previews for Ch. 185: Loki tries out his idea...and we'll see how it goes!

Excerpt: Eh, the only one I can find contains a bit of red in it, a word choice I might change. So, no excerpt for you this time, sorry!