With the return of full awareness came the realisation that they were not alone, and Loki reluctantly pulled away from Stephen's embrace. His head felt much clearer and his body, though still very weary, felt undoubtedly invigorated.

He looked around to see the monks had all gathered around him, their eyes closed and palms clasped together in what seemed to be a communal prayer –

"Saurav?" he murmured, unconsciously pulling the swaths of white cloth around himself.

"Fear not, Loki. It is only Tonglen. They are breathing in your pain, and sending out relief to you," Rinpoche explained patiently. "They are imagining taking away your suffering and giving you happiness."

"I do not know if I'm comfortable with that." Loki desperately looked to Stephen, but his husband too was already deep in Tonglen, head bowed in meditation. Loki shook his head. "What I have had to go through…I would not wish it on anyone."

"You have given and given, Loki. These acts of altruism you have tried to disguise as acts of selfishness must simply be countered, lest they eat you up inside, as they nearly did."

"Altruism?" If he had not been so astonished, he would have laughed.

"It is a different world you are living now. A world that works on cause and effect."

"Then there is no hope for me then, Saurav. I have lived too long. It is impossible to recall all the wrongs I have done," Loki said quietly. "Nor is it possible for me to collect enough merit in this lifetime to deserve anything but suffering and sorrow."

Rinpoche's smile was gentle, as gentle as the hand he touched to the top of Loki's head. "No one is undeserving of happiness, Loki." He rapidly read a healing mantra under his breath, and blew into Loki's eyes.

"You deserve it most of all."

A late supper was laid out in the communal kitchen, and Stephen had never seen a fare more appetising; simple though it may be with boiled rice, stewed eggplants, fried potato slivers, and sautéed wood-ear mushrooms on offer, it was the best meal he had had in years.

Loki watched with a wistful smile as his husband ate with an appetite Loki thought he would never see again. He took another sip of his tsampa, a watery porridge made of roasted barley and salty Tibetan butter tea. Loki had been wary at first, but Rinpoche assured him that it was gentle enough for him, and he had to admit, the unusual meal was going down rather easily.

"You will stay here for the night, yes?" Rinpoche asked.

Stephen and Loki exchanged glances. Before any of them could protest,

"You will stay here for the night," Rinpoche declared. "I cannot have you sleeping in a tent out in the cold, not in your condition."

"But I feel fine –" Loki protested.

"Loki, please. You have not come to visit me in almost two hundred years. Surely you will do me the honour of sheltering you for just one night?"

An awkward silence ensured.

"He's got you there," Stephen mumbled, before shovelling another chopstick-ful of rice into his mouth. "At least it won't be oatmeal again for breakfast."

Rinpoche only laughed.

Later that evening, a disciple showed them to a room on the very top floor of the monastery. It was sparsely furnished with four single cots facing a row of windows that opened to a breath-taking view of the Himalayas.

Stephen felt sticky from all the trekking they had done, not to mention the unbearable urge to bombard his husband with a million questions, that he simply had to distract himself by doing something mundane and utterly crazy at the same time.

"I'm hitting the showers."

Loki only nodded from where he was standing at the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

As Stephen walked back into the room minutes later with wet hair so cold it had icicles in it, he stopped short at the sight of his husband, still standing by the window and looking mighty pale and sweating lightly despite the cold mountain air blowing in.

"Loki? You alright?" Stephen asked.

Loki did not answer. He studiously avoided Stephen's eyes and made his way to the cot farthest from the door, before gingerly lowering himself onto the thinly-padded mattress.

"Loki, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

Towelling his hair dry and shivering slightly, Stephen could not help but glare at the silent figure on the bed.

"You hate it when I keep things from you. What makes you think I like it when you do it to me?" Stephen berated irritably,

Loki remained silent and turned from lying on his side to lying face-down on the thin mattress, his bare feet sticking out over the end of the bed.

"Well what is it? Mountain spirits? Hungry ghosts?" He sat down on the adjacent cot. "Loki?"

"Just a slight pain in my stomach," Loki finally mumbled into his flimsy excuse of a pillow.

Just and slight equalled 'a whole lot' and 'excruciating' respectively in the Loki thesaurus.

"How many times – " Stephen ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Was the tsampa not as gentle as Rinpoche claimed it was after all? "Why didn't you say something?"

"It's nothing, Stephen," Loki growled and buried his face back into his little pillow. "It's not that bad."

"Right. If not that bad has you looking like a dog run over, care to show what real bad looks like? So I can catalogue it in my head for future reference?"

Still lying prone, Loki simply covered his ears with his hands.

Stephen sighed. "Like that, huh?"

He swatted his towel over the cot railing and crossed over to sit on Loki's bed. Placing a hand on Loki's back, he became alarmed at how soaked it was, as though Loki was sweating out a fever. "Turn over. Let me have a look."

"No."

"Loki."

"No, Stephen. This needs to happen. I have to let it."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"This is no ordinary pain."

"How is that supposed to be reassuring in any way? That's all the more reason why I need to take a look!"

"You're not listening to me, Strange," Loki admonished gently. "Everything is…rearranging itself. I can feel it."

A shaky chuckle. "It's the magic of this place. It's trying to put me back together."

"Yeah…you call it magic. I call it intestinal obstruction," Stephen deadpanned.

Another mirthless chuckle. "No pain no gain, Doctor."

But Loki's intermittent sharp intakes of breath were rubbing Stephen all the wrong ways. "Can I at least see if I can make the pain go away?"

"No. I can't have you…interfere."

"Well what am I supposed to do then?"

"Watch? Sleep? Climb a tree? I don't care."

"Can I at least hold your hand?" Stephen asked quietly, at long last.

"Can't promise I won't break it."

Stephen shrugged. "Nothing I can't fix."

As long minutes passed in silence and Stephen sat with Loki through the pain, he began to think that perhaps Loki had not been kidding. On more than a few occasions Stephen had had to stifle his own cry of pain; he would be surprised if Loki did manage to not break his hand, having had to grip it so tightly to ride out the throes of pain.

Stephen was starting to become really worried now, not for the sake of his fragile human bones, but for Loki, whose pain seemed to be increasing by the minute, judging by the soft moans escaping now and then from the measly pillow he still had his face buried in.

A soft knock on the door. "Master Strange?"

"Rinpoche." Relief warred with apprehension at the sight of the Lama so late into the evening.

"Has it begun?" Rinpoche gave him a knowing look, rosary clicking away briskly in one hand.

Stephen stared at him, before a sharp cry from behind him jolted him out of it. Wordlessly, Stephen nodded, and stepped aside.

"If you could allow us a moment, Master Strange?"

Stephen hesitated, before finally giving in. He would not be of much help anyway, with his hovering. "Of course, Rinpoche."

Stephen closed the door behind him. The whispered pectoriloquy of the Lama's healing mantras, inhumanly rapid and sibilant, seemed to follow him as he made his way slowly down the stairs, and out onto the main monastery courtyard.

He sat on a stone bench and waited.

He looked up at the looming pagoda roof, golden and resplendent against the bright, moonlit night. For some reason he was not feeling the cold, despite only being in his sleeping clothes.

Here they were, thousands of miles away from home, on a sacred journey in search of both spiritual and physical healing, and he had no idea if they were any closer now than before they came, to either.

Maybe there is no fixing me, Loki had said.

And didn't Loki always know better?

Stephen closed his eyes and leaned his head backward.

"Master Strange?"

His eyes flew open, and he nearly jumped out of his skin upon sensing a sudden presence sitting next to him. "Rinpoche," he gasped.

"He's asleep now," Rinpoche said calmly. "He should be feeling better come morning."

Stephen's stomach flipped lazily. He braved himself to utter the one thought that had been bothering him. "We have not truly healed him."

To his utter dismay, Rinpoche nodded in reluctant agreement. "We have only healed his physical body. For now."

"The miracles of Zhongli Quan lie in their resurrective properties…to heal broken bodies and cure chosen ones of illnesses and disease." Rinpoche inhaled deeply. "Something is devouring his soul, and with it, in time, the body will fail again."

"It is the Vow he took," Stephen said, his voice hollow.

"No, Master Strange. The Vow is not a cruel thing. For all her longevity, The Ancient One was only human after all and had no years to give, only her magic." Rinpoche shook his head. "Her death did not herald Loki's demise. He would have lived out the rest of his potential life, but only without the protection conferred by the essence of her magic."

Rinpoche glanced at him. "Nor does his eternal promise to you mean a premature death for him. His time has not yet come."

"We don't get to choose our time," Stephen said quietly, remembering some of the very last words The Ancient One said to him before she died.

"No, we do not," Rinpoche agreed. "But there is…an external factor at play here. And it has everything to do with the deterioration in Loki's spiritual wellbeing."

"What do you mean?" Stephen's heart began to race.

"The spirit and the body are interdependent, Master Strange. And I am sensing a great imbalance in Loki that I fear will manifest itself again."

Stephen closed his eyes against the loop of nightmare he could not seem to break.

"His soul is old, Stephen. One that would have seen itself incarnated ten times over, had he been of our world." Rinpoche raised his head to look at the sky. "Now imagine a star. It may shine for millions of years, but in the end, it will die out."

Perhaps if Stephen closed them tight enough, this nightmare could finally end. "A leak."

He opened them again but his gaze was empty as it stared at nothing in particular. "Loki described it as a leak he couldn't seem to seal."

Rinpoche wrapped his red robes tighter around himself. "I have done all I can. It is sealed for now…albeit temporarily."

"How long?" Stephen asked, a tad more tightly than he intended.

How long would it last before Loki deteriorated again? Would Stephen still be around when it happened?

"This century? The next? It is anyone's guess, Master Strange."

"Will undoing the Vow make him better?" A strange, almost physical pain accompanied the forbidden question, his voice a cracked, broken whisper.

Rinpoche's voice, in contrast, was stern. "On the contrary. You may have been the only thing that had kept death and destruction at bay all these years, and you will certainly be the one thing that stands between them in the years to come."

"Do you know what it is, Rinpoche? Or how long it's been going on?"

The Lama shook his head. "The knowledge is beyond my reach. All I can tell you is that whatever that happened to him that caused this, it did not happen recently."

Stian and Aífe's faces flashed through Stephen's mind, and with it, the memories of all the hardship Loki had had to go through just to bring their children into the world.

Perhaps Loki had been ill long before they met, and neither of them knew it.

His heart plummeted further. "What do I do, Rinpoche?"

"Take him through the rest of the journey, Stephen. And never lose faith."

A blessed hand pressed upon the top of his head but Stephen hardly felt it. "It is what gives life meaning."

"Thank you, Rinpoche."

When Loki stirred the next morning, Stephen's visage was the first thing his gaze landed upon.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," Loki murmured.

Lying on his side precariously on the edge of Loki's tiny bed, Stephen propped his head on an elbow and gazed down at him. "You're a sight for sore everything."

Loki had to laugh. "Your lines are cheesier than ever, Doctor."

Stephen gave him a lop-sided grin. It did not linger long. "How do you feel?"

Gone were the gnawing pains in his stomach, the perpetual aching in his limbs, the heaviness in his head. For the first time in what felt like years, Loki felt…normal.

"I feel fantastic." Loki sounded almost surprised. "Amazing, actually."

Stephen's face brightened. "This might actually be the first time that I believe you."

"Hey."

"Don't you 'Hey' me, Odinson." Stephen did not have the heart to sound angry anymore. "What ever happened to Section (6) of Article (4) in our relationship agreement? That one should not wear a glamour when in the presence of the other?"

"I refer you to the Clause under the same section, husband, that in dire times when one (and/or both) is in mortal danger lest a glamour is worn, then wear it you shall," Loki said simply. He had been the one to draft it after all.

Stephen sighed. "You're incorrigible, Loki."

Loki was quiet for a while. "But you still love me, right?"

Stephen's answer came in the form of a deep, lingering kiss.

"You're not…angry with me?" Loki cupped the sides of his face.

Stephen's answer came in the form of a second kiss, deeper and harder, leaving them both breathless when they finally broke apart.

"Let's get out of here, Stephen."

"Why?" Stephen asked teasingly.

"This place is too holy to even think of the things I want to do to you."

Stephen stared at his husband. At the sight of the spark of mischief lighting up the green of his eyes, so familiar yet so long gone, Stephen's throat dried up suddenly. "Hold that thought Odinson."

"Yeah? For how long?" Loki asked seductively.

Stephen's stomach let out a low, mournful groan. "Just until I've had some breakfast," he said sheepishly.

Loki laughed again before wrapping his arms around Stephen's neck and pulling him in for another kiss. "I'll take one for the journey."

Dingri. 13,900 feet above sea level.

Standing at the flank of Mount Gongbori, Loki looked up into the distance at the ancient remains of a monastery, its crumbling ruins a sprawling, inaccessible complex high up in the mountains.

"Shall we?"

"You and your ruins."

"Oh I don't see ruins, Stephen. I never do." Loki's eyes roamed the foothills, at the Everest in the far distance, at the teracotta roofs of the ancient town just beyond the horizon. "I see them for what they used to be. Grand and beautiful, untouched and pristine. At the height of its heyday, this whole city was a treasure trove, the cradle of civilisation." His face fell slightly. "Now?"

The sense of loss could be felt permeating the atmosphere, like the jamais vu of seeing a completely brand new city when one knew an old one had sat once before in its place.

"Why did you come here the last time anyway?" Loki asked with mild curiosity.

"I was trying to get to the foot of the Everest…the Rongbuk Monastery to be specific. Had to stop halfway."

At Loki's questioning gaze, Stephen sheepishly added. "Altitude sickness."

Loki tsk-tsked. But he came nearer, and nakedly searched his husband's face for any sign of illness.

"I'm okay, Loki," Stephen said gently. "But it's nice having you worry about me for a change."

"I always worry about you," Loki said softly. "That has never changed."

Stephen gazed at Loki sharply. As if he could sense it, Loki looked away and immediately changed the subject. "There is hardly anything to see now at Rongbuk. Not since the fire that destroyed its vast collection of priceless books and relics back in the 1800s."

"I tried to save it, but –" At Stephen's aghast expression, Loki sighed deeply. "Well you know me. I try to stay away from fires really. The last time I was in one, it was one of my doing, and had you and Thor not come back for me, I would have perished."

The destructive fire released by Loki's deadly blood magic had yet to return the piece of scorched land back to life; it remained a blackened, infertile grass land in the heart of New Asgard.

Stephen squeezed his hand. "I will always come back for you."

Loki smiled brightly. "I know that now." He leaned in for a quick kiss. This was a place under heavy surveillance; it would not do to call the attention of the ever-roaming eyes of the Chinese authorities onto them. He could easily get out of trouble, but Stephen was still adamant about not using magic so he was trying to behave himself, but it was hard.

"Come on, husband. We haven't got all day."

"Where are you going? The Yarlung Tsangpo river is that way."

"There's a nice restaurant downtown and it's got this nice dish I've been wanting to try."

"Any nice restaurant you've tried the last time you came is probably lost to the times and human history, Loki."

Loki snorted derisively. "Can't be. Tripadvisor 2019 says it's a must try."

Stephen could not help but laugh.

As they walked side by side through the crumbling roads of the ancient town in what was turning out to be strangest second honeymoon ever, Stephen realised life with Loki would never not be an adventure. Case in point?

"What's a yak jam anyway?"

"It's raw yak meat in a potent concoction of garlic, onion and chillies. Lots and lots of chillies."

"Loki. There's no way in Hell am I ever going to let you eat that."

"Yeah, sure."

"I mean it." The nearest modern hospital was probably in Lhasa and any traditional Tibetan hospital around here, he was pretty sure he could not speak the language, "Hell no."

"Hel yes."

"Loki?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did you do it?"

"You're going to have to be more specific, Strange." Loki's fingers curled around the grey hair at his temple as they resumed the soothing head massage.

Stephen looked up from where he was lying in Loki's lap. From this angle, what little he could see of Loki's eyes was enough to tell him that Loki knew just exactly what he was asking.

He turned his head once more to look upon the blanket of stars twinkling high above them as if to follow the line of Loki's thousand-mile gaze.

"Do you know how Aífe came to draw power from the Dark Dimension, Stephen?"

"The forbidden spell in the Book of Cagliostro." Kaecilius never returned the stolen pages. If there was one thing Stephen hated, it was people ripping pages out of books.

Loki's hand stilled. "Do you truly believe that?"

Stephen reached for the hand still clasped to his temple. "You are not responsible for her choices. Knowing her, we both know she knew what she was getting herself into."

"Oh I know she did." Loki's voice was but a whisper, stricken and grieved. "And after what happened to her, I knew I could not let the same thing happen to you. Not again."

"I was never going to go down the dark path, Loki."

Something wet dropped onto Stephen's face. He looked up in alarm. "Loki."

"She said the exact same thing to me." Before Stephen knew it, Loki's head was bent so low their foreheads were almost touching, his long arms curled possessively around Stephen's neck, his unruly hair tickling Stephen's face all over – but Stephen knew better; Loki was only hiding his tears, it was evident in the way his voice broke. "On a night just like this."

"Please don't ask me of it anymore, Stephen."

"Shh, Loki." Stephen pushed himself off the ground and twisted at his waist. He gripped the sides of Loki's face and to his horror, the tears were cascading in a freefall and all burning questions died at the sight of them and he desperately thumbed them away. "Hey, hey. It's alright."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Stephen."

"Sneaky bastards, both of us. We're perfect for each other." Stephen gave him a quick peck on the lips, wet and salty. "But of course you just have to go to extremes, like you always do."

"I'll try to do things in half-measures next time," Loki sniffed mournfully.

"No." Stephen shook his head, adamant. "Don't you ever change. I don't think I can stand the ordinary."

That brought a teary laughter from his Prince at last. "I'll remind you of that the next time you chew my head out for doing something incredibly extraordinary."

A mischievous glint chased away the last traces of sadness, and Stephen could almost taste the change of mood in the atmosphere.

"Will you make love to me, Stephen?"

"Loki…" Stephen's grip around his shoulders tightened. The last time they had been together, they had been in astral form, and it created their most painful memory to date.

"I think I can leave them behind me now. The painful memories, the negativities, the holes…they're all gone now." Loki rose into a kneeling posture and cupped the back of Stephen's head. "I am ready, husband."

A coaxing kiss on the lips, sweet, and salty no more. "I would not ask it of you otherwise."

"Here?" Stephen asked breathlessly as they broke apart for air.

"Why not? The only thing around here are mountain goats. I'm sure they won't tell on us." Loki's eyes bored deep into his soul. "Love me freely, Stephen. Fearlessly. Like you promised."

"Loki."

Loki flicked his wrist, and Stephen saw the rainbow-tinged crystalline silhouettes of the Mirror Dimension surround them in a lightshow of brilliant lights, before shimmering out of sight.

"Care to join me, Doctor?"

When Stephen looked at his husband again, his mouth fell.

A completely naked Loki was lying on his back on the grass, gazing at the stream of stars above his head. "The stars are beautiful tonight, Stephen."

Before he knew it, Stephen was lying on top of him, their long legs entwined around each other, locked hands digging deep into the grass underneath them for purchase.

Loki had never looked more beautiful. "So are you," he whispered huskily.

And they made love under the stars with nothing surrounding them for as far as the eye could see, but moonlit plains of fertile grasslands, and the majestic Everest gazing upon them from the heavens.

The next morning, Loki woke up to the delicious smell of coffee. He wrapped his sleeping bag around himself and hopped out of the tent, all cocooned and pleasantly warm.

"Morning," he murmured.

Stephen was stirring something very enthusiastically over the gas cooker. "Morning, darling. Did you sleep okay?"

"Like a baby." Loki yawned delicately. "What's for breakfast? I'm so hungry I could eat a yak."

Stephen's eyes brightened. "I do hope that's a metaphor, but even if it isn't, I don't really care. So you are feeling alright?"

Loki brushed his hair out of his bleary eyes. "Yeah. I feel a hundred percent. Can't you tell?"

"After last night?" Stephen chuckled. "I've never felt so worn out and rested at the same time."

After much complaining and cajoling, Loki finally gave in and picked up his spoon in resignation. "I think this thing is starting to grow on me."

"Good." Stephen could listen to Loki complain about oatmeal all day long but he hummed happily as he scooped another helping into Loki's bowl. All that mattered was that Loki was eating again. "When we get back to Asgard, I'll make you anything you want."

Loki's eyes softened. "I can't wait to see our children again."

Stephen said softly, "Me too."

If Stian and Aífe were all they going to have in this lifetime, then so be it.

Loki inhaled deeply. The air smelled wonderful here. It was clean and fresh, like Asgard, but different somehow…its scent of Oriental magic uniquely distinctive, ancient and timeless. "We should go somewhere. Just the four of us."

Stephen's fingers grazed the outside of his arm lightly. He kissed Loki on the temple. "Just the four of us."

"Anything else you'd like to do before we head back? Anything you want to see?" If he could gander a guess, "Another ruin?"

Loki looked out across the calm, rolling waters of the peaceful river. He felt like a swim. "Race you to the other side?"

Stephen could only stare, the oatmeal sitting like a brick in his stomach. And his crazy husband wanted to challenge him in a swimming contest. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that."

Loki was already in the water. "At least it won't be a boring one!"

The portal opened into their living room. While it was already near midnight in Tibet, it was barely sundown in New Asgard, and the light of the dusk streamed through the French windows, golden and warm. As golden as the figure sitting on their couch.

"Brother!" A loud, gratingly familiar voice bellowed.

Loki groaned loudly. "Thor."

"I have been waiting for you for hours!" Loki needed to figure out a manoeuvre to accept Thor's hugs in the least painful way possible.

"You look well." Thor's grip around his arms was exquisitely painful. "You even feel well."

"Yes, yes, please do refrain from squeezing me like a piece of fruit, Thor."

"I trust the trip was a success?" Thor shook Stephen's hand, clapping his brother-in-law on the back warmly.

"Couldn't have gone better," Stephen said breezily.

"What news from Vanaheim, Thor?" The faster they could get rid of his brother, the sooner Loki could get to his children, and some real food.

"Oh Brother, you really outdid yourself this time."

"What did I do?"

"What didn't you do?" Thor snorted. "You stole Freyja's grimoire of forbidden spells from her library. You invoked the darkest of fire magic from the bowels of Muspelheim itself and near razed New Asgard to the ground."

"And I would do it again in a heartbeat," Loki said flatly. He sank onto the couch and elevated his legs onto the Ottoman. "That's old news, Thor. Tell me something I don't know."

"You didn't steal the second grimoire."

Loki turned his head around very slowly.

"You have been bleeding your life force for the past five years, and you were none the wiser."

"A second grimoire?" Stephen's heart began to pound. "What's in it? What did he miss?"

What was Loki supposed to have done after he sacrificed almost his entire circulatory system out to defeat Orri and his dark sorcery?

"The second part to the spell." Thor looked at him sharply. "Freyja was so angered by your breaking and entering she did not even bother to tell you of the ultimate price to the spell you cast."

Loki gaped. "But I'm not…leaking anymore. Surely it has run its course?"

He looked to Stephen frantically, but his desperation turned sour at the haunted look in Stephen's eyes.

"Stephen…" he said warningly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Stephen rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes. There was no hiding it any longer.

"Rinpoche sealed the fenestrations in the very core of your soul, Loki. But only temporarily."

Stephen planted himself heavily onto the bar stool at the kitchen island. "With time, they will give way, and you will deteriorate again."

"You knew." Loki's face was ashen. "And you didn't tell me."

"We just had a win, Loki. Could you not not begrudge me one night, just one night that I could pretend everything was alright?" Stephen said imploringly. "That you were alright?"

Loki turned his furious look to his Brother. "Well? What is the ultimate price that I have yet to pay then? Did Freyja deign to tell you? What did you have to give up for that vital piece of information, Thor?"

"I did not need to. Mother and Father did," Thor said quietly.

"What?"

"They came to Freyja in a dream. Told her you were in trouble. In fact, she was expecting me, and nearly bit my head off for not coming sooner."

Loki raised a visibly trembling hand to his mouth. "Let us hear it, Thor."

Thor studied his brother carefully.

"For every year you live, one of your loved ones is to give up one of theirs…and the next and so forth. Until Hela claims one or both of you into her dark bosom, and even darker Halls."

Loki began to laugh.

Stephen exchanged looks of chagrin with Thor –

It started off slow, a mirthless chuckle that soon escalated into a crazed, maniacal laughter that soon had tears running down his face.

"There's a reason why it is forbidden, Loki."

"My days have always been numbered, Thor. At the end of the day, it is not telling me something I don't already know."

"I wanted to give her my remaining years –"

"Thor, don't you dare." All tears dried instantly. "Don't you fucking dare."

Thor shook his head, every bit as furiously. "But I couldn't. It had to be someone you both agreed on."

"I'll do it." Stephen stood up.

"No." The grief tore from Loki's throat in a raw cry of agony. "No, Stephen."

"I am only giving up the years you gave me, Loki. They were never mine to begin with."

Loki's head reared as if slapped, but Stephen's words could not be gentler.

"What use do I have of them in a world without you?"

"How can you ask that?" Loki cupped the one half of his face that Stephen could see, the line of his shoulders slumped in utter defeat. He suddenly felt so, so tired.

A sick whisper. "You are the Sorcerer Supreme."

"And there will be another one after me. And another one after him or her, and so on and so forth, until the world ceases to exist."

"Our children…"

"Will have both of us for as long they could." Stephen was adamant, but not unkind. "I'd rather we raise our children together, than go it alone."

He walked over slowly to where his husband was sitting on the couch and kneeled.

Stephen pried Loki's hand off the side of his face and replaced it with his own. Loki's tears felt unusually warm against the skin of his palm.

"Let me save you. Properly this time."

"Why?" The grief in Loki's eyes asked the very question Stephen had been asking himself for as long as he could remember.

Why couldn't they just be happy?

But he chose to let Loki think he misunderstood what he was asking.

"I cannot sit around and watch you slowly wither away." Stephen shook his head slowly. "Not when there is something I can do about it."

"I'd rather die by a thousand swords than have your death on my conscience, Loki."

Loki heard the words as clearly as he had the first time all those weeks ago, but their meaning had never been clearer.

Perhaps it would have been better had they never met each other.

You can't lose what you never had.

"It's just your luck, Strange," he whispered.

"Yes it is." Stephen's shaking hand left a scraggly trail of tears across Loki's cheek as he attempted to wipe them away. "I'm the luckiest man in the multiverse."

"I married you."

And Loki could not hold back his sobs any longer.

Stephen fiercely kissed his husband on the forehead for one last time.

"Come on, Thor. Take me to Vanaheim."

"Ye-ah…" Thor who had been watching silently from the far corner of the living room cleared his throat loudly. "About that."

"You kiinda don't have to anymore." Thor propped his elbows on the kitchen island, eyeing the fruit bowl in front of him as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Thor?" Stephen frowned.

"Oh did I not tell you? Loki's all healed. Freyja closed the loop."

"What? When?" Stephen demanded.

"Right before I came back actually. If you had stolen the third grimoire then you would know that another way to plug the leak is to plug them with Freyja's tears." Thor tossed something at Stephen who caught it in one hand. "Here."

A gold pendant in the shape of an exquisite triskelion shone brilliant and glittering in the heart of his palm.

"Freyja cried for me?"

"Of course she did. She is our Aunt, Loki." Thor nonchalantly popped a slice of orange into his mouth.

"You tricked me?"

"What? Naww.." Thor drawled. He popped the remaining orange hemisphere into his mouth, pits and all. "You just never let me finish my story."

"Your story?!"

"Good thing Stephen stepped up to the plate too, it would have been so awkward if he hadn't –"

"Loki!"

A glint of silver, and a giant Mandala shield loomed over Thor –

"Let me at him!" Loki raged. The tips of his daggers sparked as they came into contact with Stephen's shield.

"Now, now, Brother –"

"Don't you 'Now, now' me!" Gone were the daggers, for now Loki's hands glowed as they prepared to blast Stephen's mandala, and hopefully Thor too, into smithereens –

"Loki…it's bad karma to kill a bringer of good news, even if it's your Brother," Stephen tried to reason but his effort was half-hearted at best. He countered Thor's glare with a cool look of his own. It was not like Thor did very much when Loki drew his daggers on him on the first day they met at The Sanctum all those years ago.

"Yes, Loki, it is, all these negativities can't be good for you, not in your delicate condition –"

"I don't have a condition!" Loki was looking about ten seconds away from hollering. "And delicate? Really?!"

"Well, Freyja did warn me that you might get a bit over-excited, now that we know for sure that you're going to be just fine and back to being the little terror that you were," Thor sighed.

"Also, the Council of the Gods weren't too keen with all this self-sacrificing behaviour, and they bid you both to stop."

"You invoked the Council?" Loki lost all control and began the descent into shrieking.

"Of course I did. This is no small matter." Thor said indignantly.

At Loki's loud moan, he could not resist slipping it in, "And the collective word is, 'Do stop with the self-sacrificing behaviour, it is unhealthy and utterly exhibitionistic."

"Did Bragi say that?" Loki peeked through the crevices of his fingers.

"No, Freyr actually. Bragi could not stop waxing lyrical about you two. The wily Trickster God, and the human Sorcerer who stole his heart."

"I feel like I'm stuck in a soap opera and I can't get out," Stephen mumbled. "No, scratch that. A Spanish telenovela, cos I sure as hell don't understand a word of it."

"It means 'Yes, yes, they get it. You love each other. Do stop trying to die every other day to prove your love to one another."

"Oh, that's all him." Stephen forgot all about keeping his shield up and pointed in Loki's direction. "I'm perfectly fine with just buying him sandwiches and making the kids' lunches."

"Yeah. Says the guy who couldn't wait to haul arse to Vanaheim and sell his soul to Freyja."

Try as they might to glare at each other, Stephen and Loki only lasted a few seconds before they threw in the towel and exchanged abashed smiles instead.

Thor's gaze flicked between his brother and his brother-in-law in glee, loving nothing more than to interrupt their moment – yet for all Thor's enthusiasm, Stephen and Loki did not seem to be at all listening.

"No one needs to sell anything, but Freyja and Freyr do send their love, and bid you to come visit when you're stronger. They look forward to seeing you and your children, especially the twins."

"What?" Loki's smile froze on his face.

Loki's sudden change in countenance was lost on Thor, who continued breezily. "At first I wondered if they meant Stian and Aífe, but I suppose they must be talking about your future children."

Loki's face drained of all colour. His hand groped the air as he grappled for whatever support available to him, and he found it in the form of a strong arm gripping the bend of his elbow.

Stephen fought to keep his voice level. "Thor. We…lost the twins."

"That can't…be." Thor stared at Stephen in aghast, before frantically looking to Loki, whose knees had gone so weak Stephen hurriedly conjured a chair for him to sit in –

"She shared me her Sight!" Thor took an earth-shattering step forward. "Freyja is never wrong, Loki, you know that!"

"She showed you?" Loki's voice sounded strange to his own ears.

"Yes!" Thor nodded vehemently. "A girl and a boy, with hair the colour of midwinter's night, and eyes as green as the sea!" His eyes began to dance with excitement once more, oblivious to the identical, stunned expressions on Stephen and Loki's faces.

"And I am to convey to you that you have all their Blessings and that there is no need to worry for you are going to sail through the pregnancy this time, and that you will have a safe delivery and that yes, you have their permission to name the little ones after them –"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up. Thor." Stephen fought the urge to run his hands through his hair for there were only so many bizarre things he could take in in a day without wanting to tear it out by the root. His head was spinning. "You're going to have to start from the beginning."

"I am pregnant?" Loki whispered.

"What?!" Stephen demanded. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"But I don't…feel –" Like I'm being ripped to pieces, Loki wanted to say. A peculiar tingling sensation prickled the base of his spine.

Could it be?

He ran to their bedroom while fumbling with the buttons of his coat –

The bathroom door locked itself behind him.

– and when that simply took too long, he shed every piece of clothing he was wearing by magic except for his trousers.

He stood half-dressed in front of the full-length mirror.

He could dimly hear someone knocking on the bathroom door. "Loki!"

Of course, nothing had changed. His body looked the same as it had always been. The hideous scars were still there, although they had lightened in colour, the contractures softer to the touch.

His hand hovered over his belly, afraid to touch, afraid of what he might see.

"Loki, open the door."

Stephen.

"Loki, let me in."

No. He could not do this alone. He could not bear it.

The bathroom door unlocked itself with a soft click.

Their eyes met in the bathroom mirror, the pallor of his husband's face matching his down to a tee.

"Did you –?" Stephen could not seem to find the right words, "Are you –?"

"I haven't. I can't –" Loki balled his fists at his side. "I can't look." His pupils nearly swallowed his green irises whole in terror. "Not without you."

Stephen nodded briskly. In a hushed voice, he wrapped a hand around Loki's wrist. "Come on. Let's look together."

As if in a dream, Loki let himself led out of the bathroom and lowered gently onto the bed.

The cool air blew the day curtains in, as ethereal and as soft as the light of dusk peeking shyly in through the windows that opened onto their balcony. Loki fought down a shiver as the breeze kissed the bare skin of his arms and naked torso.

"Whatever happens…" Loki heard himself say. "I love you."

Lips seized lips, locking forehead to forehead, chest to chest…and as a surge of magic raised the hairs on the back of Loki's neck, he frantically kissed Stephen, terrified to let go, terrified not to.

"You ready?" Stephen said breathlessly when they finally broke apart reluctantly. They had put it off long enough.

"Yeah." Loki licked his lips, savouring the phantom taste of Stephen's kiss. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Bless the familiar warmth of his husband's hand as it carefully felt his belly; Loki laced his fingers through Stephen's, lending him the strength he needed.

Together as one, Stephen and Loki let their magic seep through their fingers.

Loki closed his eyes as the magic searched deep inside him, hoping against hope that Thor was telling him the absolute truth.

Loki felt something drop onto his face, hot and wet. And another.

He opened his eyes.

And the truth was right there, in the welling of Stephen's glistening eyes.

Loki felt something stir inside him and his heart skipped. Was that –?

He waited, and there it was again. And he instantly burst into tears.

"Stephen."

Stephen nodded. He could not speak.

"We're pregnant." Loki could not see his husband's face clearly through the veil of heavy tears but he could make out the blurry image of Stephen nodding away madly.

"We're really pregnant." Somehow saying it out loud, twice, made it all the more surreal, and Loki felt giddy.

"Oh, Loki."

Stephen let out a laugh and suddenly Loki was flying; in his thrill and exuberance and euphoria, The Cloak must have taken it upon itself to join in the celebration, and Loki soon found himself laughing too as they levitated off the bed, twirling in the air as they kissed each other furiously.

"It's them?" Stephen cupped the sides of Loki's face. "It's really them?"

His Mother must have looked after them for him. And Freyr and Freyja were both the God and Goddess of Fertility after all –

Loki nodded, his tears pooling in the web space between Stephen's thumbs and index fingers. "It's them."

And his heart soared to heights it had never reached before, and from the way Stephen was kissing him, again and again again…

The elation was probably mutual.

"It's really them."