Iris relished the quiet. Loki had enchanted the cell to muffle the dungeon noises and she enjoyed every second in which the only thing she could clearly hear was the sound of the ancient pages she turned. As she read, she remembered all the reasons the priesthood had been so appealing to her- hours of nothing but manuscripts and her own mind, being surrounded by others excited by texts, the comforting routine of historic rituals, the opportunity to guide others through rites of passage, and a simple life without the pressures of marriage and family. As she studied, she greived the lost opportunity.

Loki also had a dampening spell around the house on that first day as he let anger and vengeance rule him, shifting shape frequently so as to keep his prey confused. That night, Iris' husband fled. Loki did not see him the rest of the week as he wore Iris' skin, lived quietly, and waited for the summons to the palace.

He entered the cell to find Iris had ordered more books from the library and was busy cross-referencing texts, pages of notes spilling onto the floor, "Hello, Iris."

"Oh, hello, Loki. I did not see you enter."

"You appear to have kept yourself busy."

"Are you ready to switch back?"

"Yes." The warm tingle evaporated from her body and she looked down at hands and clothes that were her own, "What did you do?"

"I frightened him so much that he fled on the first night and he has not yet returned. Shape shifting can be both a tool and a weapon against those of weak mind."

"What else did you do?"

He rested a hand on her shoulder, his voice gentle, "Hurt him as badly as he hurt you. If he dares touch you again, tell me. I will take care of it the same way."

"I hope it does not feed his anger. You seem more like my old friend every time I see you."

He gestured to the pages across the desk, "What have you been reading?"

"Everything. Did you know these books all relate? This one describes the processes that this one depends on to explain the fundamental workings of Yggdrasil as mythologised in this one. They all connect, even if it is not apparent at first."

He smiled as her eyes lit up, her words rapid, "You seem more like my old friend since I saw you last as well."

She rested her cheek against his fingers, still lightly on her shoulders, "I have so missed books, Loki. Words and thoughts, the flurry of new ideas that invade during sleep and cause one to light a candle and work in the middle of the night..."

"They are their own sort of magic, are they not?"

"Yes."

He hovered beside her, looking over her notes, "This is brilliant, Iris."

"Thank you. I read what you had written and it just seemed to fit."

"Will you come sit with me a moment?" They sat on the bed and he let silence settle over them before taking one of her hands, "I think I have found a bit of the old Loki. Many things have invaded my mind that I would rather not think about. But kindness is somewhere still a part of me. And I am protective in the same way Thor is of me. I am not sure I like drawing this parallel between the two of us, but given what I felt I had to do for you..."

"You did not kill my husband did you?"

"He deserved it, but no. I injured him, I taunted him, I spoke cruelly to him, but I did not kill him. You have my word that he ran off in the night and I did not see him for the rest of my time in your place."

"I told you before that the old Loki is not dead. You only had to believe me."

"Perhaps a part of me did, and hence why I found him. Me."

"You will never again leave this cell, will you?"

"No. Not unless you grant it."

"Heimdall will know, will he not?"

She watched the wheels turn in his mind, "He ought to have known this time. Why was I not captured? Why did he not tell Odin so I could be dragged back?"

She put her arms around him, "I do not know, but thank you. I am ever grateful for your kindness...and your manuscripts."

Loki smiled and held her gently, trying to remember the last person who had embraced him. There had been Thor as he lay dying in Svartalfheim, but that did not count. People were odd around death. Before, it had been his mother just after she thought he had saved her from Laufey. Iris tried to sit back, but Loki, lost in thought, held her tight and tried to stop the flooding thoughts. But nothing worked.

Iris had no idea what was goin on in his mind, but with his grasp desperate and his eyes squeezed closed, she knew better than to interrupt.

Then he started whispering, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me..."

"Loki?"

"I cannot..."

"You cannot what?"

"End this. Her voice, her touch, her grace, her gifts... She was the last to embrace me so..."

"Shall I stop? Would that help?"

But he was shaking his head before she stopped speaking, "No. Please, no." So she waited until he collected himself, "My apologies, Iris. I seem to have momentarily forgotten myself."

"I think you remembered yourself."

"The young man who overthought everything and wished for adventure and glory and obscene marginalia?"

"Yes. My dear friend."

"You were right, you know."

"Oh?"

"I feel remorse for some things. Not for others, but for some. I accept that it all led me here, though."

"You have always been a thinker."

"Too much of one."

"No. If you were not as you are, you would not have been so keen a scholar, nor your wit so sharp. And your mind is what I was drawn to." She sighed and sat back, fiddling with her dropped veil, "But I suppose my scholarly pursuits will come to an end again, won't they? You will have to tell me what you discover."

"But why should they? Speak to Odin. Perhaps you can stay another time, but without switching places. We could study together."

"He will think me crazy to wish to stay in the dungeons."

"He likely already does for visits."

"True." They sit uncomfortably for a moment, "He has to know what we did...but why did he not stop you from leaving?"

At that, the barrier dropped and they both startled as Odin stepped in, "Because I decided to let it be a test."

Loki scrambled to his feet and offered Iris a hand as she rose, "Sir, I can explain everything. Iris was being-"

Odin held up his hand, "You have been well watched. I know of her husband. He has spent the week cowering in pubs. You surprised me, boy. I thought you would take advantage of her tragedy to secure your freedom, leaving her to suffer in your place. That you did not says much of your character."

"Do your observations tell you I still cannot forgive you? That I did not care if you were dead or living when I sealed you in the sarcophogus? Does the all-seeing eye read my distain?" Every word dripped bitterness.

"He would have to be deaf and blind not to," Iris quipped.

"You do not get to diminish my rage."

"I do not intend to. But ask an obvious question...well, what do you think I am going to say?"

"Perhaps nothing?"

"And just when have I ever done that? Really, Loki, come now."

Odin watched the exchange, amused, "Some things never change. And some things I hope will. But that is not what I came to discuss. Heimdall watched your every move. You lived quietly for a week and never left her house. You returned willingly. You have shown concern for Iris beyond what I thought you capable of. I am willing to change the terms of your confinement on one condition."

"You wish a sacrifice? Grovelling? More of my blood than is shed yearly? Or perhaps you wish tears I am unwilling to shed."

"No. I want your studies to result in scholarly works or documents of interest to the priests." He addressed Iris, "You were studying for the priesthood, were you not? You spent this past week reading and noting as though you had."

"Yes, your Highness, I did."

"And did you enter that profession?"

"No."

"You still have a habit for it, though? Why did you stop if you still enjoy the work?"

"It was not by my choice, Sir. But yes, I love the work."

"I cannot change the way the priests manage their company, but I can grant you time and space to work alongside Loki. This cell, however, is not suited to proper studies. Loki, you will be returned to your quarters under heavy guard. It will be cleared of all questionable content in advance. If you find something missing you need, you may ask, but I may not grant it back to you. If this is agreeable to you both..."

Loki spoke to Iris, "I could be incredibly disagreeable and decline solely out of spite, but if you wish to continue your studies, I will hold my tongue and instead agree with only a little bite to my words."

"I would like to ask to modify the bargain only a little."

Odin thought he ought to be offended at the suggestion that his already generous offer was not enough, but was instead more than a little curious, "Oh? What do you propose?"

"That I leave my husband's house and bring what few posessions I have here to share in Loki's confinement so I might practice the same monastic life that I yearned for when I began my studies."

"Iris, you have done nothing to deserve to share my imprisonment. What of Amarylis? Will she not miss you?"

"She will understand that I am following a dream. So long as she and I can visit one another on occasion, she will not be angered."

"We can arrange visits for your family. You may use the title 'royal scholar' to describe your station," Odin said.

"Then it is settled. I will gather my belongings, explain to my family what it is I am doing, and we shall begin." She was grinning broadly as she left the cell.

Once alone, Odin and Loki stood staring awkwardly at one another until Loki asked, "Will the beatings cease? Or ought I continue to look forward to the annual tradition?"

"They will stop."

"I...I do have regrets. You must have heard. Or seen."

"Saw. I have frequently watched you and Iris. Though that means I did also hear."

"I am also still very bitterly angry."

"I can tell."

"And what of you? Do you still wish me gone? Do you still believe it was my birthright to die and that you ought to have let me do so? Come now, I do so long to hear the answers I know already."

"Your mother once said you were so perceptive of everyone but yourself and she was right. I do not know what to do with you, Loki. I made my choices. I brought you here. And you made your choices and they brought you here."

"You are being infuriatingly patient."

"I cannot make it easy for you to be insolent. Now gather your pages and your books. You will, no doubt, want to have things in order before Iris returns."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because she was right when she told me that even a condemned man ought to know his friends still think of him. And I have not seen you so protective of a friend in many years. And she is a brilliant scholar, as are you."

"How did you never notice that she was quite dear to me once? I am certain I came home from my studies often speaking only of Iris and nothing of what we were supposed to be studying."

"It is easy to be blinded by things in your way when you have only one eye."

"Clever."

"There is work to be done, Loki. If you do not want the guards gathering up your pages, get to it yourself. I must be off to make safe your chambers." Odin left.

Loki walked to the desk and crouched down to try to discern some sort of order to the scattered paper. He was terrified of what Odin might ask of him in the future in return, but at the same time, there was Iris. Delightfully witty, acid-tongued Iris who loved manuscripts and ancient marginalia and who would be living with him, studying with him, and laughing with him for however long their arrangement lasted. As he skimmed her notes in a handwriting that was halfway between his and hers, he could not help but be amazed at the connections she made. He hoped they would be together for a very long time.