AUTHOR'S NOTE: So here we are, at the end of this long adventure. Thank you so much to those who have supported it all along the way; your enthusiasm helps keep MY enthusiasm going, and I can't tell you how helpful it is, especially a monster like this!

Although this is the end of "Comes the Hurricane" it's not the end of the series - there will be at least a 'Tale' coming, since I already have part of Tony-gives-Loki-a-suit written, but that may be folded into a larger sequel. In either case, it won't happen until the new year.

I hope you've enjoyed the story! I'd love to hear from you.

CHAPTER 38

ARISE

.

It was odd to enter the Archives and not be looking for a way to end Thanos. He'd found a way, he'd ended Thanos, so why was he here?

But the smell of the place alone was comforting, reminding him of many pleasant hours spent amid the myria ways of preserving other people's thoughts and knowledge. There were books, scrolls, and tablets of course, but also more esoteric record-keeping, such as crystals that held data in their lattices and metal wafers with inscriptions too small to see unaided.

The master archivist met him in the rotunda, which was the massive central hub, out from which the halls of knowledge stretched out in multiple directions. It was a vast space, lit by large burning braziers that offered a more fire-like comforting glow but was bright enough to read all but the tiniest of symbols. Here there was only the archivist's desk to give direction and otherwise there was nothing to distract from the view of tomes in shelves spiraling to the ceiling, down into the basements, and along outflung arms into the distance.

"My prince," Wulfgar rose and bowed his head to greet him. "Seek you another villain to slay?"

Loki forced a laugh. "One seems enough." He thought of finding information on boosting his powers back to useful strength, but decided against it. Likely his mother would not approve, and he was in little mood for that sort of research today. "I seek something lighter this time."

"The Archive is yours, my lord. Let me know if you require assistance." Wulfgar bowed again and moved off, letting Loki proceed deeper into the Archives.

Staying away from histories and magical tomes, he plucked a slim volume of Kree poetry off the shelf and took it outside to the garden. Though the garden was quiet now, he didn't want to bothered, so headed for the side courtyard. The central water feature held a ridiculously ponderous statue of a man holding up a sphere on his back, which Loki had always thought representative of Asgard's self-imposed duty to guard everyone else.

But the statue was large enough that an agile person could climb from the rim of the basin, pull up on the elbow and swing one's feet over, and sit between the statue's head and the sphere. Hardly anyone looked up when they were in the garden, and he usually had several hours of peace before someone, usually Thor, found him.

The third poem had some interesting word choices and declension, and he was pondering what the long dead author meant, when someone called, "My lord? Loki?"

Glancing up, he saw Sigyn standing by the fountain and he felt guilty he hadn't sought her out since they'd met again at the feast. "My lady. One moment."

He slid down from his perch, landing lightly on the rim of the fountain and jumping down to the ground to face her.

"I apologize," she said at once, shaking her head, "I meant no interruption to your reading, I only wanted to say hello."

He dismissed it with a brief shake of his head. "I wanted to speak with you. I neglected to thank you for aiding my mother. She would not have escaped Svartalfheim without you."

Sigyn smiled. "We wouldn't be rid of Thanos without you, so I believe the scales are still weighted in your direction."

She was so wrong about that, he wanted to laugh. Instead, he shook his head and glanced down at the book between his hands. "Nay, one good deed among many bad ones changes nothing."

"Only one?" she asked, tilting her head as if she saw more deeply than he might wish. "I think there was more than that."

He shrugged. "Only one that mattered."

"I think that is not so. I would not have left Malekith, if not for you. The Aesir and Jotnar would not have allied." She took an impetuous step forward, closer to him. "Do you not see? You have caused more good than you know."

"By accident," he brushed her attempt away.

"By fate," she corrected. "I think the Norns, or whatever force stands above the Celestials, grew tired of Asgard keeping the Nine Realms in unchanging stillness for ten thousand years." She pointed to the statue behind him. "Taking it upon themselves. And so they sent you to change it."

That sat perilously close to the prophecy, and he felt suddenly ill, thinking that this might be only a respite before it all changed again. "And if that change is terrible?" he asked, and could not halt the next demands, as if he expected her to realize her mistake. "What if they sent me back because it's supposed to end in fire and death? What if my destiny is to be the monster of the stories and ruin all of it?"

To his surprise, a smile grew on her lips. "Then I think you should keep thwarting it out of spite," she suggested. When he chuckled in appreciation, and wondered if that might actually work, her expression softened. "But I think not. The universe does not lack for monsters who want to kill and destroy; it hardly needs you for that. You came back because your family fought for you, and because you didn't let go. And maybe, because the universe saw you had changed and it wanted to give you a second chance to do better this time."

He flinched, thinking back to all that he'd done badly. "But there is no making that right-" he started, but she stopped him with a gentle finger across his lips.

"Do better," she repeated. "Not undo. The past is the past. We all have pasts that we wish we'd done differently. But we walk in the present, and we should face the future or else we stumble on our way, looking too much behind us."

"And if the past chases us?" he whispered. "If it refuses to be left behind?"

She plucked the book away, set it on the fountain wall, and clasped her fingers around his. "That is why you don't walk alone."

He looked down at her hand, warm and soild as so little else seemed to be. "You feel real," he whispered. "So much seems as if I never truly left that Celestial and all is illusion. But you feel real."

"I'm real." She tilted her head to look up at his face, drawing closer to him. And with her free hand she touched his cheek lightly. "But I am not sure this is." When he frowned, not understanding, she explained, "This face is different than the one I knew. I hope you will trust me with it again."

His stomach clenched on the suggestion and he tensed, but didn't speak an objection. Did she truly want to see it? Could he show her again?
She added, fingers gentle, "Or not, if you do not wish it, but last I saw it was in death. I would like to see your true face in life."

Perhaps he could let her see. It was no secret from her, after all. So in private, maybe, for a short while, he could show her again. He knew she wouldn't mock or be revolted; to her it was merely how he looked. So maybe... he could do it.

"I owe you something," she said, distracting him from his disquiet with her teasing tone. "Do you remember what it was?"

"I remember." His voice was a little hoarsen as his heart leaped to a faster rhythm of anticipation. Her hand on his face slid around his neck, the light touch on his nape making him shiver.

"Shall I take it now?" he asked, leaning down.

"Do you need a formal invitation?" she retorted, a little breathlessly, and tilted her chin back, rising up on her toes to match their heights better.

"To do what I've wanted since the moment we met?"

"When I kicked you?" she teased.

"I hardly noticed your little slippered foot," he muttered and silenced whatever she might have tried to retort, his lips meeting hers.

At the touch, Loki remembered her smashing into the wall and the frostfire that followed. Both should have killed her, yet here she was. A part of him feared it was a trick, that it couldn't last. He would ruin it or the fates would realize he didn't deserve any of this, and all these good things would end.

But after a moment, he decided it didn't matter. He would live this moment, all these moments, and fate would have to take care of itself.

As the sun set, a crowd gathered in the great court before the palace. The Einharjar formed a perimeter, keeping the crowd back from where Thanos lay on a tall wooden pyre, lit from high up on the palace wall, so everyone could see him.

When night fell, the royal family gathered on the balcony above the gates, high above their people and the body. Despite their formal garb and gleaming war helms, their arrival went unnoticed for a moment, until at a signal from the king, the Einharjar, as one, turned to face the palace and slammed the butt of their lances against the paving of the square with a thump like thunder.

Into the silence, Odin spoke, voice strong and amplified through subtle art to reach everyone's ears, detailing the crimes and threat of Thanos, his wielding of the Mind Stone and quest for the others, to make himself ruler of all. "But before this could come to pass," Odin declared, "Thanos, the Eternal, was slain by Loki Odinson." The cheer erupted after the name – and Loki lifted his head and his lips parted in wonder at the sound.

Odin paused, to turn toward Loki and bow his head in acknowledgement. In the courtyard, fists went to hearts in salute. Odin turned back to face the crowd.

"This is Thanos on the bier. So now do we end all that remains of Thanos, to remove him from the universe forever." He lifted Gungnir, the tip streaming with a bright silvery light. "Loki, hold out your hands."

Loki head snapped around, surprised at the request.

More softly, Odin told him, "Hold Gungnir. It is for you to rid the universe of Thanos."

Loki hesitated and murmured, "Are you… certain?" But it wasn't Odin who was uncertain, as the king twirled Gungnir and held it out.

"Destroy what remains of Thanos," Odin urged him. "Destroy all that remains; his corpse and what remains of him within you, as well. Free yourself of his shadow."

"Go on, brother," Thor murmured, and set a hand on his shoulder.

Loki wrapped both hands around the haft, remembering the last time he had taken it when it had been offered and all that had come from that. With a gentle tug, he pulled it from Odin's hand into his own.

Face set, he stepped to the front of the balcony, leveled the scepter, and a bolt of green fire shot across the air and straight into the pyre. The wood caught in a sheet of yellow and white flame, towering the height of the balcony and so bright it cast new shadows across the plaza. Smoke rose up acrid and foul but passed as the intense heat burned everything swiftly. When the flames sank down, all could see the form of Thanos, curling and disintgrating inside the flames, moments before the wood collapsed on itself in a shower of sparks.

Loki stopped the flow of power to watch. The crowd below was mostly quiet, watching the fire. It felt too mournful. Loki didn't want anyone to mourn Thanos; he didn't deserve that much respect. Loki glanced at Odin. The king seemed to know what he wanted to do and nodded permission.

Loki leveled Gungnir at the fire again, but this time used a smaller but more complex flow into the embers. It was not enough to strain his powers, but felt good to do something more interesting than simply set something on fire.

Sparks shot up into the sky, one after another, faster and faster, until there was a bright fountain. The crowd stirred in excitement that something new was happening.

But all the sparks were golden fire, and that seemed too dull. So Loki shifted them into different bright colors, like tiny colorful stars flinging themselves into the sky.

The crowd gasped and applauded, thrilled by the display.

Loki would've continued it longer, but even with Gungnir's boost, a sharp pain woke in his temple warning that it was enough. In one large burst, the sparks climbed above the towers and exploded into immense colorful flowers of fire.

With a final twist, he extinguished the sparks and flame, leaving only a few embers in the pyre.

The crowd roared approval, stomping or shouting or applauding, and began to disperse now that the show was over. Only then did Loki raise Gungnir and with a satisfied smirk, hand it back to Odin.

"Loki?" Frigga asked curious why he'd done it.

He shrugged. "They were so dour." He pulled his helm off and set it atop the rail, flashing a smile at her. "Sometimes, this place needs livening up."

Laughing, she shook her head in mock despair.

"It was brilliant, Loki!" Thor exclaimed, slapping him on the back. "I doubt Gungnir has ever been used for fireworks before!"

"No, it has not," Odin said, tone dry but blue eye alight with good humor. "Come, it is time to celebrate. Evil has been defeated, and you three are safe and home." He offered his arm. "My queen?"

She took it with a smile and they entered.

Loki mimicked Odin's gesture, holding out his arm. "Brother?"

Thor locked their elbows, pulling Loki close, and with his other hand tousled his hair. Loki let out an affronted yelp and shoved at him. "Get off!"

Thor let him go, grinning. "Better. You had helmet hair."

"You lout, I did not!" Loki smoothed his hair with quick gestures. "I have a dagger this time, you know."

Thor ignored the threat and feinted another reach at his hair. Loki ducked back, but his elbow hit his helmet and knocked it off the rail. "No!" He lunged for it but couldn't lay a finger on it, before it was out of his reach and slammed to the ground, barely missing one of the Einharjar.

Thor was choking with laughter, hardly able to stand up.

"Shut up," Loki muttered. "It's not that funny." He waved at the startled guard and glowered at Thor, until he finally stopped.

Wiping his eyes, Thor said, "You were right, this place does need livening up."

Loki eyed Thor's helm, calculating his odds on getting to it and throwing it to the courtyard, before sighing and rolling his eyes. "Glad I could help."

"I feel better." Thor smacked his shoulder and then his blue eyes turned more somber, as he asked, "Do you feel better with Thanos gone?"

Loki glanced in the direction of the ruins of the pyre and the bits of curled and scorched armor that were all that was left of Thanos. "I do."

"Good."

But Thor didn't move, and Loki had to prompt him. "What?"

"Now that you are better, we should return to Midgard. They still need our help."

Loki felt his weariness pressing on him again, returning from where the elation of destryoing Thanos and the fun of the display had put it. He sighed. "I have nothing to offer them. Tell them I will study the question, but I have no answer."

"You will," Thor said, with a quiet but sure faith.

"I did one impossible thing with a Soul Gem, Thor, and at considerable cost. A second- I –" His voice choked in his throat and he spun away, hands shaking. It was some effort to reach that dry tone and say, "You expect much from me, brother."

Thor's hand closed on his shoulder. "No, Loki, not again. No one demands the impossible, or that you pay that price again. Only look into it. You understand the Gems as few have, and you were at least briefly with the Celestials – you may discover a new way."

Loki inhaled a breath, trying to keep it steady when it wanted to waver. Research. Experiments. He thought of Banner pointing out that magic and science were the same, and how Stark hadn't found Loki's reading worth a comment. It was natural to them to search for answers. And here was Thor encouraging Loki to study, instead of urging him out to the practice field as he would have in the past.

"All right." Loki agreed. "I will try. That is all I promise."

"Fair enough," Thor agreed and squeezed his shoulder again. "Let us go feast. Or Father will eat all the food."

"Your food," Loki reminded him.

"Not tonight," Thor corrected him. "We eat in the family room, and Father ordered Hilde to provide for us all."

"What?" Loki's head snapped up and he stared at Thor, incredulous. "He did not."

"He did." Thor looked insufferably smug as he chuckled at Loki's expression. "I heard it myself. We will eat as you do tonight."

He shook his head, still half-convinced Thor was exaggerating. He'd always had his own food, and at best they'd shared one of his dishes, but never without having their own, too. "It's … not necessary," Loki protested, sounding half-hearted even to himself. "I'm used to it."

"It is no sacrifice to eat as you do, Loki, but it is poison for you to eat like us." Thor shook his head in mournful regret. "You should have at least one meal where you might eat everything at the table. So now we will." He clapped Loki on the back. "Come, see for yourself."

Loki trailed behind him toward the family's private quarters.

The palace was the same place he'd grown up, but the halls now seemed too bright, too grand, still not quite real. He brushed his fingertips against the columns and doorways as he passed, to remind himself they were solid.

This was no dream. He wouldn't turn the corner and find Thanos; the floor wouldn't crumble away and drop him into the void. He wouldn't wake up and find himself back in the 'real' Asgard to be ignored or taunted as a freak. He'd thought it was impossible that Asgard could change, but they had. As he had.

He was awake and alive, and his mind was his own. He could choose his path.

He was Loki of Asgard and perhaps of Jotunheim, and it was time to discover who that was.

the end.