Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! you guys rock so much!

Beta: Zerubel (bless you, you wonderful serthis you)

So wow! I only just realized we're less than 100 reviews away from 3000! That's incredible!

I've been reading through some of them (i usually do), and several of you included your thoughts on what I said at the end of the last chapter on the future pairings issue.

Some people are hoping he'll go back to Sif after Logan (which, given what I have planned, is probably not likely to occur- or at least not for more than a one-nighter type thing), some people want me to stick it through with Logan (I wouldn't mind really) and several of you are very excited for the possibility of Harry/Moo, Harry/Loki, or Harry/Loki/Moo, citing various points in their favor or just generally being pleased about the possibility.

That said, while I would like to take the story to one of those pairings, I'm not forcing it. Whenever I plan anything for this fic, it never works out how I intended. Originally Moo wasn't going to be around after leading Harry to Mahdi, and there was a point many chapters back where I was 100% of the opinion that I would never consider pairing Harry with him (before I had a greater grasp of Muhammad's character than I do now) or Loki (I didn't think they would have any chemistry), and well, we all know how I feel about it now.

Other things that could have happened in this fic but didn't:

Harry could have dated Luna for a short period near the end of the war. Muhammad could have been a tobacco dealer. The Lupins could have died like in canon and Harry would have adopted Teddy. Harry and family could have continued their travels with Logan in tow for a little while. Severus could have decided not to travel with them at all, and would have stayed in Bogdon, occasionally visiting with the Malfoys. Draco could have become a politically-focussed and not-that-violent Dark Lord, and Harry would have had some inner conflict with supporting him in spite of him being semi-similar to Voldemort. Tom could have come back as a sort of ghost, still in human form, rather than taking over Metis' body. Metis could have been secretly able to transform into a "human" girl.

There's countless other things. I don't plan. Because this fic is a wild train that constantly derails itself, and then miraculously manages to get itself onto new tracks somehow every time.

So we'll see.

Oh! One more thing. There were a couple people that were worried about how I might shift the relationship between Muhammad and Harry from familial to romantic, and to these folk I want to pose a challenge. First, it should be noted that I write most of my descriptors with Harry's viewpoint in mind. So when I describe a person or place a certain way, it's meant to be coming from Harry.

So the question at hand is thus:

When was the last time Moo was described as Harry's brother?

And for that matter, how often has he been described as such in the newer chapters vs. the older ones?

Let's see if any of you come up with an answer.

For now, I'm quite done, so let's get on with it. Here's the chapter! I hope you like it!

Enjoy.

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Harry jumped back, immediately moving to put some distance between them, but he was conscious of the crowd. The space he was free to move in was large, but also limited. He would need to remain constantly aware of that. Skadi was fast, and she moved towards him in the same instant, sword raised. A blasting curse was on his tongue and hitting the ground near her feet in a heartbeat, and the woman froze and jumped back, startled.

"Seidr." She hissed, eyes wide, and she was not the only amongst them. Nearly all the Jotuns around them looked shocked to see that he had magic at his fingertips, and he smiled in a way that was half grim, half satisfied. To his surprise, Skadi suddenly laughed with something like delight. "So that is why you were so quick to agree. My terms did not restrict you in its use! Clever child." She sounded like she actually meant it as genuine praise. He bared his teeth at her without responding, and in a single blink of his eyes she had her bow in her hands and was nocking an arrow, and the battle properly began.

He put up a shield but dodged to the side rather than rely on it to protect him. It was proven a wise move when all it did was slow the projectile rather than stop it, and the arrow lodged itself in the stone floor where he'd been standing. More arrows were coming and he ran, ducking and weaving in as random a pattern as he could, sending spells in her direction in chains. As fast as he could speak them they were on her.

"Expulso-Flipendo-Diffindo-Bomdarda-Levicorpus-Ferula-" He had to roll, breaking the chain as she predicted his pattern of movement well enough to send an arrow to the spot he'd been moving into. As it was he felt the air move above his head with how close it came to spearing him through. The battle had only just begun and already it was clear that she was obnoxiously skilled with her bow. Her body movements were quick too, as she managed to easily duck and dodge all but the last spell.

It wasn't a battle spell, but Harry had been learning from Moody's book. The bandages it created appeared and swirled around her legs, tying them together. It knocked her on her side, and Harry darted close, spear ready and aimed for her thigh, intending to injure her (badly enough for a surrender, with luck)-

And her sword was in hand, slicing through the bandages and slamming up to meet his blow in a single movement. The two weapons met with a clang, hers being backed by so much strength that Harry found himself thrown into the air in order to keep hold of his. He flipped, managing another explosion curse and a stupefy before he darted away. His aim was off from being airborne, and she dodged in the same moment, rolling across the ground. The first spell struck the stone with a clatter- making a small crater appear- but the second struck true-

And did absolutely nothing.

They both paused, just a moment, him in unpleasant surprise and she with the expectation that the magic should have done something- but it hadn't- and then Harry was moving again as she sent another arrow at him, still on her side on the ground. It nearly hit him still, and he was weaving and sending spells again, thoughts whirring.

He knew, of course, from DADA, and care of magical creatures, books and Hermione telling him and Ron about things from books, that the ordinary giants on Earth were very resistant to spells. Like trolls or dragons. Their skin was thick and magically fortified. Most lower-level spells did nothing at all to them, and the higher-level ones that did affect them, didn't work to the same extent they were meant to.

And the Jotuns and Eldjotnar were so different from Midgardian giants (despite Tom's claims that they were, all three, born from Ymir) that it hadn't occurred to him that they might still have that in common.

He grimaced, It wasn't for sure, really. He would need to catch her with a stronger spell to be completely certain of it (it could have been a fluke, he told himself), but- Well, it didn't exactly bode well for his chances if she was magically resistant, now did it?

He continued his pattern, occasionally making jerky movements and trying to keep her from predicting where he would run next, sending spell after spell her way that she dodged, and having her send arrow after arrow. He started to wonder how that quiver of hers could possibly hold so many. Maybe it was enchanted? And then he broke pattern and rushed her on all fours.

The sudden motion startled her, but she was quick to react. Her bow was slung to hang on one arm and her sword was drawn and up in a guard position by the time Harry managed to end on his feet with his spear swinging for her middle. Alarm bells were ringing inside him, being this close to someone so much larger than himself who was hostile- he ignored the instinctive flare and made his move, letting go of his weapon with one hand just long enough to cast a single spell.

"Sectumsempra!" After his travels and all the various training he'd been through, the original curse his Father had taught him was hardly the most violent in his repertoire (there was a horribly nasty Russian skin-flaying curse that came to mind). It was, however, one of the darker ones he knew. He aimed for her leg, in case it did work properly, because he'd rather leave her crippled than split in two. A gash bloomed there, but it was not nearly large or wide or deep enough.

The spell had been lessened.

Considerably.

He grimaced and made to move back again, but this time, she was keen not to let him. She'd started the battle thinking that distance would give her the advantage, because of her bow, but with his spells and speed, that had proven to not be the case. So she tried to stay close, swiping a downwards arc of her sword at him. When he blocked it the force of her strength sent a shockwave through his arms and shoulders and made his knees bend. He managed not to be brought to the ground, barely. He winced, curled himself sideways and twisted, and slammed a blasting curse right into her chest.

It didn't blow a hole through her, but it did send her stumbling back with the skin there torn and bleeding sluggishly, and the animagus took the moment to retreat. He needed to think, needed to reconsider his strategy because while injured she wasn't even out of breath yet. He'd been doing much more moving than she had, assuming his stamina the superior between them as it would have been against a human opponent, and so thinking that he had movement to spare.

He didn't think that was the case now.

So he jumped back, and for the first time ever activated his cloak. The leathery material flared and stretched, twisting and reaching and altering itself outwards to either side of him until it held the shape of wings like a dragon's. She blanched, gaping at him, and with a single twist of his magic and will the wings flared forwards in a flap that sent a strong gust of wind at her; strong enough to make her take a step back and bring a hand up over her face.

And then he was flying.

He went upwards quicker than he had expected, but he managed to make his sudden stop near the ceiling look intentional, and she was still gaping. There were sounds of appreciation from the crowd (and that was another thing that was making this harder- he'd been trying to fight her while also keeping track of his angles, making sure none of his spells went towards their audience if she dodged. There was no visible protection between them and him, and he was too preoccupied to check for protection of the magical sort) and Skadi took a step back.

"You can fly!" Her voice was part surprised and wondering, and part accusing. Harry grinned at her, baring his teeth ferally.

"Oh your majesty, I can do much more than that." And then he put a silencing spell around his wings and body (careful because he didn't want it to hide his voice), and sent a curl of magic upwards, through one of his horns and the band that was on it- and vanished from sight.

He considered it cheating; making use of the Hallow in what was meant to be a duel. But his drive to win this was greater than his sense of what was right, and certainly greater than his pride. Loki's life may be riding on this, because even if Tom and the others could get the Liesmith away from Asgard, he would have to hide. Harry had no doubt that Skadi would hunt for him (there was something feral in her that brought to mind taking down deer with tooth and claw)- and if she ever found him, if she ever caught him? Well. Either Loki would win that fight and destabilize this peace Harry was working so hard for, or Skadi would, and his friend would be dead. He didn't want that situation to come to pass.

So he needed to win, and if that meant using every dirty, nasty, unfair trick he had up his sleeves?

He'd do it. It didn't even warrant thinking about.

Below him Skadi said something he was sure was a curse his necklace couldn't translate, and he started moving about the room, casting the occasional spell but never stopping his flying (he was using his invisibility to hide his inexperience in doing so with his new creation, and was getting used to it- it was harder than he'd thought it would be to keep full control over the motions of his tail, where the band for steering himself was). Below him, unable to see where he was well enough to try wasting an arrow in an attempt to hit him, Skadi was running, dodging, and rolling to keep away from his spells. It didn't escape his notice, however, that she was taking the time to snatch up the arrows stuck about from her many near-misses to replenish her ammo.

He let her, more interested in buying time at the moment than actually putting her down.

Then she surprised him, using magic for the first time since the battle had begun. She waved her arm up, and ice leapt from her hands, drawing up around her in something like a small half-formed dome. She had to crouch to fit under it, but she put her back to the most solid part of it, and drew her sword, holding it in front of her more like a shield than a blade. The opening that was left on the one side was just big enough for her to duck back out of it if she had to, though she'd clip her shoulders on the edges. Harry sent one last spell down, and she swung her sword like it was a bat, swatting the magic away with it like a physical thing, and the spell struck harmlessly against the stone.

Harry had his moment to think now, so he stopped casting and flew upward towards the domed ceiling, twisted, and with a well-placed sticking charm he stood there upside-down, the cloak still activated and the wings coming half around him. If anyone could have seen him, then he imagined he would have resembled a very large bat.

Severus would be so proud.

He could see her eyes darting around suspiciously, and he chuckled. She jerked. The sound echoed through the chamber too much to tell her where he was. He fell silent after that, and delved into thought.

He needed a plan. Some sort of strategy to beat her. But he also had something he had to ask himself.

He'd been, so far, treating this almost like a spar, trying to take her down without using anything truly lethal. He didn't want to kill her. But she was magically resistant, stronger than him, and he was starting to suspect her stamina matched, or even exceeded, his own. He had an advantage now, with being invisible and flying, but those things were more for stalling and running away. He wasn't sure either would win him the match (he hadn't practiced enough with the flying for the fine control he needed to chance darting in closer, and he'd never fought while invisible before, and wasn't sure he knew his own reach well enough without seeing his own arms to be sure he could attack in close quarters without it being much too risky: all of this serving to force him to continue to maintain his distance, which wouldn't exactly help him win) Harry was magically powerful, yes, but even he only had so much. Eventually, he would begin to tire and weaken, and then he would have to go down there and fight her without magic. And if he did that he would lose. There was no doubt in his mind about that.

So he had to ask himself what he was willing to do, because he needed to take this as seriously as possible.

He didn't want to kill her.

He might have to.

He thought about it. If he failed here, if he lost this fight, then Tom and Moo and the twins would help Loki escape and hide him away in Bogdon. Bruce would go there, to keep an eye on him, mostly because he was legitimately wary of Hulk, if not fearful. The large being could literally swing him around like a ragdoll, and would be able to keep him in line. It was needed, because while Harry trusted him, that trust only went so far, and even he realized he had no real reason to.

But there would be consequences to that. Heimdall might keep the secret from the Jotuns, but he wouldn't from Odin, and even if the Allfather was made to understand the why behind it, and even if Loki was his son... The matter would still stand that Harry and his brothers, and Tom, had broken a criminal out of jail and secreted him away. He wasn't sure if Odin would stand for that, or if he would come and take Loki back (the wards on Bogdon were stronger than some of those in Gringotts, but they had never been up against a god, and Harry wasn't sure in whose favor that clash would go). And the Jotun's Queen would definitely try to find him. Loki would be forced to hide indefinitely.

Assuming, of course, that he was willing to. How long would Loki's patience last before he tried to run off?

There was also the unaddressed matter of whoever had controlled him in his and the Chitauri's siege upon New York. Harry didn't know anything there, didn't know why Loki had allowed himself to be caught, but he also wasn't a fool. He could make a few guesses. That scepter was well-crafted, the magic on it powerful, to say nothing of the stone.

And Asgard's wards were better than anything on Earth.

So him losing, even if it would not mean Loki's death, was, altogether, a highly unpleasant prospect. Winning would be much easier, or well, it would in the long run. But if he was going to win, he might have to kill the blue-skinned woman below him to do so, and so he needed to ask himself if that was something he was willing to do.

Would he kill? For Loki? Had his godly friend become so important to him that he was willing to take a life for his sake?

His lips set into a grim line. He knew the answer. He looked down. It would certainly make this a lot easier. Even an earth giant couldn't survive the killing curse, so he doubted a frost giant could; and even if Harry had never cast it, there was a certainty in him that, if pressed, he could.

But there was a big difference between what was easy and what was right, and so he vowed to himself that it was an absolute last resort. He didn't want to do it if he could help it, but he did need to incapacitate her, so he needed a plan. what could he do? What sort of spells would work here? What would affect her? What were her weaknesses?

What did he know about Jotuns that would help him here?

Below him, Skadi took to speaking, and he made a mental list.

"Hiding now?" Jotuns considered Niflheim their true home. They called dying 'going home' and Skadi herself had referred to him as the 'home-ruler'. If nothing else that might mean that if he did kill her, the others may not hold it against him too much (maybe- her own hatred for Loki's complicity in the previous ruler's death certainly cast that theory into doubt). "How do you intend to beat me if you won't come out and fight?" They marked their young with symbols representing their hopes and dreams for the child, that child's heritage, and other such important things. For a moment, that thought spawned another, one which make him pause in alarm, but also one he didn't have time to consider just then. So he locked it up tightly inside his shields for later because it was important.

"How do you intend to win cowering under an igloo?" He responded, and she clearly didn't know that word, but she understood what he was referring to. Jotuns were created by the god Ymir at the beginning of time. Or so they believed, at the very least.

"Well unlike you I can't fly." Because the Fire giants were created by the same god, the two races considered each other siblings. "But I can be patient." They had an alliance that went back millennia. "You'll have to come down eventually." That alliance had stood even though neither species could go to the others wo-

Bloody fuck.

He could have smacked himself just then.

"Perhaps." He answered, eyes wide beneath his invisibility and heart hammering in his chest. Mitera help him but he was an idiot. He was so glad Moo wasn't there just then. The older male would have laughed in his face because the solution was so bloody obvious. He grinned though, and began trying to think of which spells he could use. Anything that created or generated any manner of heat. The most effective ones that made fire were, unfortunately, not ones he could use effectively, and not without exhausting himself rapidly. There were, however, a few spells of a different nature he could use that might-

Ah.

It would hurt her badly, if it worked, but-

Well, he didn't think it would kill her, and that was what mattered to him. He had that last duel with Moody on his mind, and a thought born of it for how to make the opening he needed.

So he let the wings spread out again, dropped the sticking charm, and dove. He made himself visible again just before he hit the ice dome, and Skadi jerked away in surprise as his spear smacked against it; his weight and the momentum of his fall being enough to shatter it with an ear-splitting crash. Frozen shards filled the air and glinted in the light. The wings fell back into a cloak in the same moment as his feet hit stone and he swung the spear up one-handed.

She blocked it of course, easily, but then he did what Moody had done to him, and caught her in the face with a simple cleaning charm. And just like he had done, she cried out and jerked back, bringing a hand up instinctively to get rid of the suds in her eyes even as they were already vanishing away. And then he cast a spell he'd used in that duel too.

"Jipu." The water-boiler hit her right in the stomach, heated her blood to much too hot for her Jotun body to handle (not quite boiling- she was far too resistant for that- but it was more than enough), and she screamed.

Her sword dropped from her hand as she spasmed and she fell to the ground shrieking. It was a horrible sound, but Harry held magic in the spell, prolonging it more than what it was designed for even though the thought that he was essentially torturing her made him sick. He needed to hold it just until-

"I YIELD!" She finally managed between her wordless cries, and he pulled his magic from the charm instantly. She slumped, sobbing, and there was the thumps of many footsteps as several warriors broke from the crowd to rush down and see to her. The battle was done, and so there was no longer any need for them to stay on the sidelines.

He had won, and the victory he felt for that was bitter, but it was a victory all the same.

He approached her, and though the others gathered and kneeling around her visibly bristled, she muttered for them to let him. He came, kneeled down near her himself, and cast a cooling charm over her. She sighed in relief, the spell helping even though the other was no longer active.

"You are merciful." He bit his lip. He wasn't. He really really wasn't.

"I've won." He said simply. "You'll keep your end of the bargain? Loki will remain unharmed?" She was breathing hard, her face streaked with tears of pain (he absently noted that they were white and shimmery, like liquid pearl, not clear), but she nodded.

"I will keep my word. Not I nor any of my people will touch him." He dipped his head.

"I'm sorry, for that last spell." She shook her head, waving a hand weakly as though to tell him it was fine.

"I- It will take me a bit to recover." She admitted, and she suddenly looked exhausted. Harry himself felt tired. Their battle hadn't been the longest or most physically or magically intensive one he'd been in, or the most difficult even, but it had been emotionally draining. "I wish to speak with you when I am healed. Will you stay here until then?" He swallowed. He felt so guilty he didn't think he could have denied her much of anything just then. He nodded, and she turned her head to address one of the warriors near her- an older male with bright blue skin. "He is to be treated as a guest of the highest honor." She declared, her words carrying past him so that they all could hear. The man nodded, and Queen Skadi, fierce but defeated, strong and skilled but weary and hurt, let her head fall back, and her consciousness leave her.

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The Jotun warriors treated him with the utmost respect.

He might have thought it was because of their Queen's instructions, except that they were also completely terrified of him.

The older warrior Skadi had spoken to had directed a pair of younger ones to take him to a guest space. They'd look horrified at the very prospect, but they'd done so, not even looking amused when they'd had to go down stairs and Harry had done what he had before. They'd directed him to his room and then very noticeably fled his presence the moment theirs was no longer required.

The room he'd been left in had not been built with small guests in mind.

The bed, or what he supposed was the bed, was a very large raised platform of stone with a layer of furs set atop it for the sake of comfort. It was also as tall as his shoulders. There was another table, or desk, like the one in Skadi's office, with the indents on either side for sitting. It was too high up for him to eat at while sitting, though one of the warriors had muttered something about food being brought for him later. The Jotuns, for obvious reasons, didn't have much need for warmth, so there was no fireplace, and the furs on the bed were clearly for laying on-top-of. There was a sort of- it was made of stone but there were shelves- and he thought it might be for storing clothes or other items- like a dresser, and a weapon rack also made of stone near the door.

Other than that, the room was minimalist and bare. There was no door but an open entrance with a length of rectangular-cut leather attached to the ceiling to hang in front of it. Another such doorway opened into a small space with a- well he supposed the large hole framed with metal might be meant as a toilet (and then he decided he would use one of those few medical spells he knew to take care of his business because the hole was big enough to risk falling into). The walls were relatively smooth, and the room was a sort of rounded square. There were no corners, and he thought the space must have been carved out by magic. The Jotuns clearly used it, though, he thought, not much of it. The ceiling was rougher; jagged and with the occasional stalactite. There was something that sparkled mixed in with the stone.

The light came from glowing rocks the size of his palm, set into the walls at regular intervals; there had been similar stones in the arena-like space he and Skadi had battled in, though he hadn't really been concerning himself with much beyond the fight at the time. The light they cast was slightly dim and blue; making everything tinged that color. His scales certainly looked interesting under it.

Harry studied all of it, and then cast another privacy ward. He opened the connection to Tom just long enough to let the serpent know that he wouldn't need to undertake a jailbreak after all, and he caught a feeling of deep relief and a flash of his redhaired brothers with wary expressions, and another of Muhammad looking bored, before he snapped it closed again. Then he pulled the communicator out again, and called. Bruce himself answered this time.

"Harry."

"I won." His brother sighed heavily, likely as relieved as Tom had been (as Harry himself was).

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not hurt."

"That's not what I meant." He hesitated, tempted to just say that he was fine, like he tended to do. But Bruce knew him. Muhammad was good at judging when he wanted to leave a subject be, and would sometimes let it go until he was ready, but Bruce and the twins always pushed. 'I'm fine' was never an acceptable answer.

"I would have killed her." He said instead. "I would have killed her to protect Loki." And it wasn't an explanation about how he was feeling, except that it was. Loki had his trust for all that it was limited. He hadn't properly earned it. They'd talked and they'd shared secrets, but beyond keeping his mouth shut the man had yet to do anything, yet to offer anything, to prove that he deserved that trust. He hadn't earned it. He probably didn't deserve it.

But he had it.

And more than that he had the care that Harry reserved for those most important to him.

And he still didn't know what Loki's plan was, what he was scheming or thinking. He didn't know why Loki had allowed himself to be captured and locked up, though he had a few suspicions. Loki could very well be planning to turn on him, to betray him. He might be playing some long-con and Harry was just a pawn in it, secrets and magical connections and shared sympathy be damned.

And that was horrifying, not just because of the possibility of betrayal.

But because he would have killed for him. Would have taken a life for someone who may well turn on him at any point.

And Bruce, wonderful intelligent Bruce who knew him better than most, could hear this horror, this fear, could hear it all and more in those two little sentences.

"You'd kill for me." It wasn't a question.

"Yea."

"And Moo and Sev and the twins?"

"Yes." He sighed.

"Great. So we have another addition to the family." Harry blinked.

"What?"

"You pick up strays Harry. Whether the bastard deserves it or not, and whether you realized it or not, you've claimed him. So he's ours now. Instead of wallowing about it, find out if he deserves it, and if he doesn't beat him bloody until he turns into someone who does." Harry choked on a startled laugh.

"I- wh-"

"And if he betrays you, I'll kill him." There was no hint of a jest in his voice, and Harry sobered. "I will. I won't even need the other guy. You're my brother, legally even, and I'm not about to let someone take advantage of you. But- for what it's worth, from what you've told me? I don't know if I would trust him, but I think he genuinely cares about you. So I think you can at least trust him not to hurt you. Intentionally. I don't know about anything else, but, well... You're a better judge of character than you think. So- What do you think? Can you trust him?"

"I don't-"

"Don't overthink it. Don't think about what he's done or the secrets he's hiding or anything. What do your instincts tell you? What's your gut say?" Harry's lip twitched.

"I thought you told me something once about gut-feelings not being acceptable evidence?"

"That's in law enforcement. Whatever." He snickered. "Well?"

"I- I already trust him, Bruce." Which was why he was so miserable about it all, because his heart said he could and his head said he couldn't.

"Then that's all that matters. Don't worry yourself bald about it, but talk to him." He sighed again. "And at least now I don't have to go play babysitter." Harry grinned, feeling a little better even if nothing had really been resolved. "I can hear in your voice that you're tired. So rest, relax, and interrogate him when you get back to Asgard."

"Sir, yes, sir."

"Don't be a smartass. I swear to god you spend too much time with Muhammad." He snickered again. "Case in point."

"Thanks brother."

"You're welcome. Call me again later. I want to hear about the rest of what's going on. You didn't explain that treaty you mentioned or anything very well. I have questions." The doctor hated being out of the loop on things, and to be fair, Harry really hadn't told him much. He'd called in a half-panic and explained the bare bones of the situation. He'd told him that he was in Jotunheim because of a treaty, had to fight their ruler for Loki's life, and didn't want him to die so would be going behind their back if he lost- so would Bruce please go to Bogdon to keep Loki out of trouble if it was needed?

And, thinking about that, he winced as he realized how utterly insufficient his explanation had really been.

He felt warmth bloom inside him too, when he realized that Bruce had trusted him and agreed to help even without knowing anything that was going on.

"I'll call once I'm back in Asgard."

"Good. Talk to you later, Harry." Harry said his own goodbyes, and then tucked the communicator away. He eyed the bed, and then, he shifted into his animagus form, crawled up, and curled atop it like a lazy cat.

He really could do with some sleep.

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"-jesty? E-excuse me, um, your majesty?" Harry's eyes opened slowly, and the young Jotun jumped nervously. He was standing in the doorway, having lifted the leather tarp up slightly with an arm, but he was clearly hesitant to enter. He looked familiar, and after blinking sleepily at him, the mishipeshu realized he was the same unblooded warrior to have tripped in front of him before. The frost giant swallowed. "S-sorry to wake you sir but, eh, I've b-brought you some food?" The young male winced when he realized what he'd meant as a statement sounded more like a question. Harry blinked once more at him, and then shifted back, looking tiny and ridiculous on the enormous bed. He rubbed his eyes.

"Thank you. You can bring it in." The male nodded, eyes wide, but visibly less anxious with Harry in human form. He turned and backed up into the room, holding a metal platter the wizard hadn't noticed before. There was meat on it, seasoned and cut into chunks.

It was also very clearly raw.

He blinked, and then made a little 'oh' with his lips as the Jotun set it on the table/desk. As he'd determined in his fight against Skadi, Jotuns and heat of any kind didn't mix. Fire especially was probably something they avoided as much as physically possible. As such, how or why would they cook their meat? They wouldn't.

Which meant that Harry would be shifting back to animagus form after the male left if he wanted to enjoy his meal.

"Thank you." He looked startled when Harry spoke.

"Oh! O-of course, you're very welcome! It's no trouble at all." There was the taste of a lie there and the smaller of the pair hid a frown. Queen Skadi had talked about them never having enough in the way of food, and if that was true then every bit probably counted. He shifted, feeling a little guilty as he eyed the meat. There was a lot there. More than his human body needed, certainly. Oh he could eat all of it easy as a Mishipeshu but-

"Are you hungry?"

"Ah- I- wh-"

"Are you hungry?" He repeated, a little slower. The warrior made to speak, then paused and bit his lip.

"A- A little sir." He admitted sheepishly. Harry thought he must be more than a little hungry if he would admit to it. He nodded to himself, and gestured to the meat.

"That's probably three times as much as what I actually need. I'm pretty small you know." The warrior blinked. "But I don't want to waste it, so... If you could help me out?" He made himself look hopeful, and the young Jotun perked up and then nodded determinedly. He was so earnest.

And gullible.

"Of course! Uh- eh- should I just-"

"Go ahead." Harry waved a hand. "Just leave me about a third or fourth or so." The jotun nodded, and then sat sort of awkwardly at the desk. He hesitated a moment, and then tore a piece of meat away from the whole and ate it. He paused after, glancing at the animagus like he thought he wasn't serious, and he was about to be in trouble. Harry smiled, and, finally, his current companion seemed to relax. The wizard waited a few moments, then- "So what's your name?" He hesitated in the middle of chewing, then swallowed and answered.

"My name is Unnur, your majesty! Unnur Naldottir!" Harry froze as Unnur continued eating. He had noted the androgynous features, and then the flat chest and the fact it was bare while Skadi wore a top, and he had assumed- His cheeks pinked a little in shame and guilt. Unnur was oblivious to it of course, and she continued eating quite happily.

"It's nice to meet you Unnur." He paused. "I wanted to apologize for before." She blinked at him. "I didn't mean to scare you like I did." I didn't mean to mistake you for a male, he thought silently, but not stupid enough to admit that aloud. Unnur waved a hand, looking startled again. Harry had the amused thought that she was very high-strung.

"Oh no no! It's fine! Really!" The young man grinned.

"I'm glad you forgive me." Her eyes were very wide, but this time she ducked her head and returned to the food. They were silent while she ate for a few minutes, an awkward air about the room. Harry twiddled his thumbs and waved his tail a bit, until he couldn't take it anymore and spoke again. "Is Queen Skadi alright?" Unnur jumped at the sound of his voice, and swallowed before answering.

"The healers are seeing to her." She said quietly. "I've heard that she's going to be okay, but she was in a lot of pain at first." Her mouth closed with a snap and she bit her lip, looking at him as though she wasn't sure she should have told him.

"I didn't mean to, you know." He felt the need to tell her. "I just needed to win, but I didn't mean to hurt her that badly."

"Okay." The Jotun answered easily. He wasn't sure she believed him. A bite later and she stood. "I'm done. Did I leave enough?" He glanced at the plate. She'd left almost half of it, and he thought she was leaving now not because she was full but because she didn't want to be here anymore. He held back a grimace and nodded. "I'll bring you dinner too." She paused. "Should I bring less?"

"No. If you bring the same then I get to have company." He smiled, and she returned it, both of them a little uncomfortable and awkward.

"Okay. Um, goodbye for now then." She ducked quickly out of the room and into the hall, and the animagus watched her go before shifting so he could eat his dinner without making himself sick.

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The first thing Harry did after he'd eaten was to climb back up on the bed, shift back to human form, and lay on his back to close his eyes and meditate. He didn't go as deeply inside himself as he would have in Asgard, because he didn't have any of his brothers here to pull him out of it if needed. But he let himself drift a little and pulled up his thought from earlier.

He knew from the book they'd found on the subject, and had gone over the thought during his mental listing of what he knew about Jotuns, that they marked their young. He and Loki had read about it; the marks that adorned Loki's face beneath his (or her, on occasion) glamours, and which he had seen on every Jotun he'd so far encountered here. The book had said something about how the marks were made to symbolize various things about an individual's birth and heritage, stars signs, and the things a parent wanted for their child's future.

It hadn't occurred to him before, but the story as he knew it, built from bits of Loki's memories in his head of a conversation with Odin, things Loki himself had told him, and things Thor had shared; was that Odin had found the trickster abandoned as a baby inside a temple, and taken him home in order to save him (and also for political reasons). It had been said that Loki had been cast aside because he was a runt. He was too small and weak to survive in Jotunheim, so he'd been left to die. At the time, Harry had accepted the story easily enough. But something had clicked in his head. Jotun children likely couldn't be marked immediately following birth. They probably had to wait at least a few days. The marks themselves were scars that were carefully made with a blade and healing magic. It probably took a lot of time and effort. Loki's parents would have known, the moment he was born, that he was a runt, because he would have been very small even then.

Why go to the trouble of marking the baby thus, if they intended to abandon him for his small size? And if they were going to leave a baby to die, why a temple? Why not the wilderness?

He had a grim suspicion that they hadn't abandoned him at all. There had been a war going on at the time, he knew. There had probably been those who couldn't fight, frost giants old and young and weak who were not warriors. They would have hunkered down and hidden if the fighting came to their homeland. And if they were afraid, if they thought they were going to die anyways-

What better place to hole up and be safe, and pray, than a temple?

There were horrifying thoughts and possibilities lurking in his mind that he didn't want to consider that came with that single question. But it was only a suspicion at the moment. He didn't want to get ahead of himself without any proof or corroboration. But even deciding that, there was an equally concerning thought.

Loki was smarter than he was. It was a simple fact. Harry was not afraid to admit that there were a number of people he knew personally who were more intelligent or more clever than he was. The problem, in this case was that, if Harry was just coming to this possible realization now-

How long ago had Loki thought of it?

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After he'd meditated and decided there was nothing he could do with the information until he was sure one way or the other, and that he could do nothing about Loki having possibly thought of it first, he found himself with nothing to do. He stretched, practiced a little with his spear and his sword, and then he flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

He was bored.

He had his ink and a brush on him but no surface to practice his runes on or even make anything simple with. So he couldn't do that. He could only exercise for so long before he tired, and he wasn't in the mood. He'd already meditated for the day (and for that matter he didn't even know if it was day, he was underground and while he could cast a tempus he didn't care enough to), cleaning his spear had taken only a few moments, and he hadn't really brought anything with him. A book would be nice but he didn't have any on him.

Eventually he took to laying there and playing catch with a conjured ball (it wasn't quite solid, and his fingers sunk into it a bit, but it was better than nothing). Then he started trying to do it with his tail, with varied results, and that was the sight that Unnur arrived to when she came to bring him his next meal.

He didn't notice her at first, until one ambitious attempt to catch the ball with his fin made it bounce off instead, and in the process of scrambling to catch it it smacked him in the face. He heard a giggle, and looked up to find her in the doorway looking greatly entertained, and blushed deeply. He very quickly sat up and vanished the ball away.

"Un- Unnur! Um, hello!" She grinned at him, and came in. She had a platter of raw meat again, same as before (it had tasted decent enough as a Mishipeshu earlier), and she came and put it on the table and flopped down next to it.

"Hello your majesty!" Her grin widened as she said the title, and Harry rubbed the back of his head. He supposed he hadn't been displaying very kingly behaviour.

"You can call me Harry if you want." Her grin vanished, and she shook her head with wide eyes.

"Oh no I couldn't possi-"

"I insist." He smiled at her. "I prefer being called by my name than 'your majesty'." She bit her lip, and hesitated a long moment.

"Ah-" She cleared her throat. "Alright Ha- Harry." Her eyes darted to the entrance once as though she expected someone to come through and yell at her or something, but he grinned at her. She was- It was funny, but if she reminded him of anyone, she reminded him of a nervous Neville.

Which made him the scary dungeon bat, and wouldn't Severus be pleased that he was following in his footsteps, and without even trying?

He motioned for her to eat, like she had before, and she started doing so, clearly needing an excuse to look away. He gave her a few moments to get comfortable, and then he spoke again.

"Could you show me the city after dinner?" She jerked, looking up at him with her mouth full and her eyes wide. She swallowed.

"The city?"

"Yes. I was wondering if you might show me around a bit." He paused. "If that's alright? I mean, I wasn't sure I was allowed to leave this room but-"

"Of course you are!" She looked oddly panicked. "You- You're not a prisoner! You can- Yes! I'll show you around! Of course!" She still looked panicked, but he smiled.

"Good. Finish that up then so we can go." She looked from him to the food.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No." Yes. But he had some bread and jerky left over and hidden in a pocket, and he really didn't care for eating as a beat unless it was something he'd hunted and killed himself. She bit her lip again. It seemed to be a habit they shared, though she did it much more often than he did.

"Alright."

It would be interesting to see.

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So a few things to say here before I go.

I am not as good at writing action scenes as I would like, but, that said, I think the fight turned out alright. I'm sure there are some questions, like "why didn't she use magic more than she did?" but I'll address that one in the next chapter, or, I believe, the one after that. If you guys have others, please ask! I may include the answers at some point, or answer directly in my ANs.

Something interesting to be said about the fight itself. I had no idea who would win. I made out a basic plan for either possibility, and then I just stuck my fingers to the keys and let it flow. Harry's inner conflict with his trust of Loki wasn't planned, and surprised even me a bit. Harry likes Loki quite a bit, and considers him a good friend, but Loki is a wily one, and while he knows he was controlled to some extent, Harry still has no idea why Loki would want to rule Earth.

There's a question to be asked as well, about why he would be more hesitant to trust Loki than Tom, when Tom has done him more personal harm. The simple answer is that it was Voldemort who did so much harm to him and the wizarding populous, and Voldemort and Tom are not quite the same person. Harry recognizes this, he just doesn't want to completely let go. His current distrust of Hel certainly isn't helping the matter either. The short version is, he trusts Tom plenty more than he's willing to admit to himself. As for Loki? I'll get back to you on that. I'm still trying to work it all out myself...

I think that's pretty much everything for now. The next chapter isn't complete yet, so while I'll try for the weekend after next to keep on schedule, I'm not promising. We'll see how things go.

Thanks to all of you for following along as far as you have. I'll see you guys next time!

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate