Loki has been on the run for eight years. He is tired. He is lonely. And he is on the edge of starvation. As weak as he is, he carefully dresses in his black suit, black shirt, and dark tie, braids back his long hair, and tucks what is left of his soft clothes in the satchel. He takes a deep breath and calls on all his courage as he drops every shield he has in place to keep the Watcher from seeing him.

"Heimdall? Please. Bring me to Asgard." He closes his eyes and waits, hoping that he has been heard. The Bifrost envelops him and he soon steps onto the Bridge, the glimmering city before him. He stares, centuries of memories overwhelming his indifferent mask. They are so much harder to hide now that he stares at the place where they were made. He reminds himself why he is here and walks to the control room.

Heimdall steps forward to block his path, "You have returned."

"Only for a short while. I seek a brief audience with the king. Then I will go."

"Your purpose?"

"My own. Please. I will no longer be shrouded. It is over."

Heimdall nods and lets him pass.

As Loki walks to the palace, he realizes how out of place he feels. How his clothes don't fit right from the years of stress, hunger, lack of sleep, and even illness. How much this does not feel like home, his years as prince behind him. When he reaches the gate, he bows to the guards.

"Would you please inform the king that Loki wishes an audience?"

He is allowed in one courtyard while a messenger is sent to the throne. He tries to stand and wait patiently, hands folded in front of him, a nervous habit he has had all his life. A habit he knows he shared with his mother.

The messenger returns, "Yes, sir. You will be seen." Loki follows him, guards escorting him through halls that are so very familiar and yet so foreign. He both yearns to return to this place and also wants to flee.

He is announced in the throne room. Guards escort him down the long expanse of the hall to the throne. He drops to his knee at the base of the great steps.

"My lord. Please. While I respect your position here, I did ask to speak to the king."

Thor rises from his seat, "I am king now, Loki. Father has been dead these past two years."

The news hits Loki far harder than he thought it could; he bows his head and takes a moment to collect himself, "My deep condolences. I did not know."

"I did not think you would. You have been well hidden."

"I...I have had my reasons."

"I know. And until I took this throne, I never stopped looking for you. Once Asgard fell on my shoulders, I had no choice but to leave that up to others. But I have the feeling that this is not why you have come."

"No, it is not."

"You should face our justice, Loki. But I am inclined to hear what you have come to ask before I hand down a sentence."

Loki swallows hard, all his very carefully rehearsed words meant for the All-Father, not his brother, "I...I came to offer you something. A bargain."

"You believe you have something Asgard might want? You already promised your life in order to save the realm from your recklessness. You did not fulfil that bargain. Why would we seek to make another with you?"

He reaches into his jacket's watch pocket and pulls out a key, "This key is to the one place I greatly desire to be. It is, symbolically, the key to my heart. I cannot return to the dungeons here. I cannot rot where I made my most grave mistakes and severed myself from the woman who loved me through all my failings. And there is another woman, one to whom I must return this key, who asked that I return to her if I were ever able. It would be cruel to ask you to deliver to her news of my execution. What I propose instead is this- take my long life and cast me out. Leave me what little of my sorcery I need to survive, for you know that those of us as bound to it as I am cannot live completely cut off from it. Use the words the All-Father used to throw you to Midgard, words I used to do the same to him. Make me one of them. Diminish my strength. My life. Asgard will get her sacrifice. A part of me will die. And all of me will die in only a few short decades. But it will not hurt her and I will be able to keep a promise made not with words, but with lips and hands beneath the sheets."

Thor stares at him, "Brother...you ask far more than I was prepared to give. This is a grave decision. Something that will be difficult to undo. And yet you seem to have no qualms with it."

"I don't. I've spent the last eight years alone, Thor, save for one night I sneaked with her. I am tired of running. Of hiding. Heimdall will always be able to see me, I have told him I will no longer hide. I need to rest. To heal. And I know she can bring that to me."

"It has been years. How do you know if she will take you back?"

"I don't. I don't know anything of her life for the past four years. But I have to try."

"And what if I give you this and she is no longer yours?"

"Then I will only be lonely a few decades. Death will come quickly."

"And what of me?"

"We made our peace, Thor. And you kept your heart true, searching while I was being hunted. I knew where you were. I knew you were always right behind. And I knew when you fought him. I saw. I was there. I did what I could to help the fight from my hidden places and I watched Earth's heroes fell him before your hammer gave the final blow. You have been the best brother I could have asked for. But I am no longer the man you knew before the Void. And I do not think I can ever be that man again. So I ask you to please let me go." His mask is carefully in place, but the heartbreak on Thor's face makes it hard to keep steady.

Thor walks down the steps and stands in front of him. He reaches out and places his hands on Loki's too-thin arms before pulling him into a gentle, firm embrace. Loki rests against him and hugs him back.

"Brother, is this truly what you want?"

"Yes, Thor. It is. Please. If you have ever loved me..."

"I still love you. I have missed you. There is a hole in my heart I will never fill with you gone."

"I know. And I am sorry that I have caused so much pain. I...I have had time to think. I am ready to be rescued."

"But not by me."

"Not entirely. But if you cast me out, you will make the rest of it possible."

Thor rests his hand behind Loki's head as he has so many times through their youth, their foreheads touching as he makes the hardest decision he thinks he has ever made, "If this is what you need to truly heal, to become whatever it is you need to be now, then this is what I will do."

Loki sighs with relief, "Thank you, brother."

"Is there anything you require of Asgard before I do this?"

"It would be nice not to start my new life completely destitute."

"I will make arrangements. There is gold enough here, and Mr Stark has made it possible to convert currencies. You will not want. I will have him instruct you on how to access an account in your name."

"Thank you."

"What else?"

"There are a few things from my rooms I might like. Books, particularly. But I will have to have a place to live before I bring them. Could you send a messenger after Heimdall says I have settled so that I might send a list?"

"I will bring you here myself so I will not make a mistake. But I would like to send you with a few things now, if you will allow it."

Loki nods, "So long as they are small."

Thor takes him back through the palace to his rooms. He takes a package from his desk and slips it into Loki's satchel with the instructions he is not to look at it until he is safely in Midgard. They stop in Loki's rooms and he chooses a few articles of clothing that he has always treasured and tucks them in his bag. There are two books he cannot leave behind and these he tucks in the last of the space he has. And then, once again, he stands beside Thor on the Bridge. Thor drives Gungnir into the control panel and speaks the words.

"I, Thor, cast you out in the name of Asgard. You are unworthy of this realm, unworthy of your title, unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed. I hearby take of you your long life. That magic which is not necessary to sustain you, your powers. In the name of my father, and his father before him..." Tears stream down Thor's face. In this moment, he allows complete vulnerability. "Forgive me brother. You are worthy, even if the spell says you are not..." He thrusts Mjolnir towards Loki, "I cast you out." The energy crackles and Loki finds himself sucked through the portal, his satchel clutched to his chest. He lands somewhere green. He stares at the sky, stunned. It is night, but the city lights make the stars difficult to see. He slowly stands, this new feeling of mortality entirely disorienting. He knows where he is. Central Park. He digs through his bag to find the last of the money he stole from Thor eight years before. He hails a cab and shows them the little red card he has kept so carefully for these years. While he rides, he peers in the package tucked in his bag. His heart skips when he sees what is in it and he keeps it carefully hidden. It is late- he knows the show will have already started. He pays the fare and hopes the card will still admit him.

It does, doors opened, a ticket in an envelope at the window. He takes his seat at the same table at which he first sat. There are women on the stage suspended by ribbons. He waits and watches, their athleticism and sensuality as captivating as they were years before. It is the suspension show, changed a bit through the years, but also in ways very similar to the one he saw the first time. And at the end, she still lands on the stage, a body that then descends, covered in blood. He slips out during the applause and waits for men painted in gold to allow him back to see the dancers. They barely recognize him, but Gloria passes at the right moment.

"Gloria! Please! I've come so far. Let her know I'm here."

"Well if it isn't mister on-the-run. You come back to break her heart again?"

"No. I never want to break it again. I've made my peace with my brother. It's over."

"Really? I know you were back four years ago."

"Please, I beg you let her make her own decision as to if she wishes to see me again."

Gloria sighs, "Fine. But I'm not letting you out of my sight." She waves for him to follow and they walk down the hall to the room with the dark red door, "Wait here. She's not back yet. She wanted to wash the blood off her first. We're not using latex anymore. She was reacting to it."

Loki waits; he hears his name from down the hall. Violetta shoves past her dancers, walking quickly, looking for him. When she sees him, she breaks into a run. She throws her arms around him and hugs him.

"Is it true? It's really you?"

"Yes, Violetta, it's really me."

"Tell me something only the two of us could know."

He leans in so he can whisper in her ear, "We've known one another less than a week and yet I have seen the very small brand from your years on the street on the inside of your right thigh. You hide it with makeup when you perform."

She touches his face, "How long can you stay this time?"

"A lifetime."

"What?"

"A lifetime. I...I asked the king of Asgard for a very specific payment of my debt."

"I don't understand."

"I owed Asgard my life. I asked that I be released from my long life, my powers limited to that which I need to survive, rather than face execution. Asgard...Thor...saw this as a suitable sacrifice."

"But...why? And what about the others hunting you?"

"They are dead." He kisses her forehead, "And because I love you. Will you still have me?"

"Dead? It's really over, then? All the running?"

He nods, "I thought it was such a short time, but now that I can feel myself aging...it isn't." She falls, crying, against his chest; he holds her and sighs, "Of course, I should not presume that you have not given your heart to another in all these years. I would not blame you if you did." She can't stop crying long enough to answer, so he holds her tries to whisper comforts.

When she has collected herself, she stands, wipes her eyes on the sleeve of her robe, and shakes her head, "No. I haven't. It's too difficult to know who to trust. People want the image, not the person."

"Can we retreat to your room? Somewhere a little more private?"

She opens the door, "Of course."

Gloria calls from down the hall, "I don't trust this, Vi. It's been too long."

"It's not your choice," Violetta replies.

"Just don't coming crying to me if he fucks and runs- you know, like he did already once."

She closes the door; Loki stands beside the couch, waiting for her, "Violetta...I'm so sorry."

"For?"

"Leaving. I had to, I know, but it seems to have left a sour taste behind with your friend."

"I tried to talk to her about it after- not because I was mad, but because I missed you and needed to tell someone how much you meant to me. She didn't really understand. Nat was a far better sister to me." She steps in front of him and takes his hands, "Tell me about the last four years."

"There was a lot of running. And a war so brutal that even seasoned warriors blanched at the bloodshed. But it ended the hunt. And more hiding."

"Why did you wait to come back?"

"Fear. I did not know what Asgard would do."

"So why now?"

"Because I am so tired, Violetta. And I am starving. While Asgard could feed my body, Midgard will nourish my soul as well. Did you not notice the shimmer of illusion on my face when you touched it?"

"I did. And I felt your bones through your clothes. Even your hands are so thin. But you've gotten better at hiding it."

"I had a few years with little else to do."

"Do you have a place to go?"

"No. I landed in this realm in Central Park. I came immediately here."

"Will you show me what you look like?"

"Not until I can rest. I have little energy to maintain the mask and I do not want to put it back up again once I have it down. Not until after I've slept."

She puts his arms around her waist and rests her hand against his cheek, "Then I suppose I should put some clothes on so we can get you settled."

"Settled?"

"Yes. You need your rest. I'll get you something to eat- just a little, to start. I don't want you to get sick."

"Are you asking me to come back to your flat?"

She smiles, "Well, yes. Where else would I bring my prince?"

"I no longer hold that title."

"Not in Asgard. But in my heart? Titles are not so easily stripped." She stands on her toes to reach his lips and they kiss. "And you still are my prince. I felt that little shudder."

He sighs, weary, "I love you even yet, Miss Violetta. Now. Tell me about your last four years. After we sit. I fear I might fall over if I don't."

They rest on the couch, curled together; she can feel his ribs protruding and wonders just how skeletal he is under the illusion, "They've been rough, to say the least. The clientèle here has gone from high class to worse. The need for my other work has increased- more kids fleeing, more people thrown aside, more addicts, more trafficked bodies. And there's never enough help to go around. A few of my dancers got into trouble with the law. A few more went to the streets. Demand for sex is higher right now. I don't know what's going on. But we had some changes in power at the national level and now more men are making more demands to us out in the open, so girls are taking more risks and charging accordingly. Our security's been higher. Both here and there. My gold men have had to take a few people out by force. We had to call the police in the middle of a show. One of my girls was kidnapped- they still haven't found her. We all know she's probably dead. And they got me, too. In the alley, after locking up."

"What do you mean, they got you, too?"

"I was raped, Loki. Dragged farther down the alley, out of the light, forced down by a pair of men, penetrated by three. It was horrific." She curls a little more tightly into him.

"Oh, gods..." He can think of nothing else to say, so he pulls her protectively close.

"I had a baby, too."

He stares, "What?"

"I had a baby- before the rape. I didn't want to keep him, but when I met him...I couldn't put him down. So if you want me, it's not going to be the same. I have a son. He'll be four later this year."

"Does his father watch him while you work?"

"No. His Auntie Natasha has him in the evenings. He goes to the day centre at Mr Stark's tower. We have breakfast together and Nat picks him up to take him with her. We're close."

"Are you and she lovers?"

"No. My sister, in a strange way."

Loki can't help but ask the impertinent question, "Does his father know of him?"

"He does now," she does not look up at him, instead drawing circles on his chest with her fingertip.

It takes him a moment to realize what she has told him and his eyes widen, "What? I...I have...I have a son?"

She smiles, "Yes."

"I have a son."

She giggles, "Yes. A beautiful, curious, mischievous, daring dark haired boy with bright eyes."

"Has he ever asked of his father?"

"Yes."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That his father and I loved one another very dearly but there were bad people trying to hurt him, so he left to keep us safe. I told him that if it is ever possible for his father to come back he will. He said he would. And he is a man of his word."

"What did you tell him of why I was being chased?"

"You made some very bad decisions when you were very angry and very hurt. They came home to roost. And even though you wanted to make things better, you ran so they wouldn't hurt you. I assured him his uncle was trying to help you and maybe some day he would get to meet him, too."

"Does he know of New York?"

"Somewhat. He knows that I was there. He knows you made the mess happen. But he's not even four, Loki. We don't get into much depth on history yet."

"May I see him?"

"Well if you're coming to live with me, where do you think he'll be?"

He laughs, overjoyed by everything he has heard. He kisses Violetta in earnest and they lose track of time kissing and touching as the theatre shuts down. Hearing no other voices in the hall, she checks the time and realizes how late it is. She changes into comfortable clothes and locks up the theatre. He keeps watch while her back is to the alley and puts his arm around her as they walk.

"Do you live the same place you did when I was here last?"

"Yeah. But I have walls now. We needed bedrooms. So Natasha had Mr Startk buy the building and...well, we've had some fun with it. I have two bedrooms in the back, one on either side of the bathroom. Laundry station's in my room. And a nice big, open front room with the kitchen in it. We even have real beds."

"Well, you certainly are living fancy."

She laughs, "Yeah, we're finally comfortable. The rent was insane before. I made decent money, but not good enough for two. And not good enough for furniture. Once the building was under new ownership, the rents went way down. He's not in it for the money. He's got plenty of that. So he wanted to make it affordable for all of us. He even redid the ground floor shops and we've got a maker's collective there for all the residents. Most of us are women. Most of the women are a lot poorer than I am. I love that he's made it so we can better take care of each other."

There is a question he has not had the chance to ask, one that her account of the four years raised, "Violetta, do you like your work? It has brought you harm. Your clients are no longer what they once were. Do you still want it?"

"I have to do something to support myself."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps the account Thor has said he will be putting in my name will be bountiful enough to care for the both of us."

She leans into him, "We'll see. I'd like to get out, to be honest. I've been doing this for years and I'm not thrilled to go to work each night. But I don't know what else I could be."

"Would there be a position related to your day work?"

"Not unless I went back to school. I'd need to get into social work. I've thought about it. I just don't know how it could happen."

"Why do you not?"

"It's expensive. And I don't know how I could do it while working, volunteering, and raising Kit."

"I hope Thor showers us with a fortune." He pauses, "Is that his name? Kit?"

"Khristofor, actually- Russian. It's not a name you hear much there, and no one here will spell it right. But Kit's an old nickname. I like it better than Khris, even if the whole rest of the world decides to use that name. Kit's what I call him. There was a writer- Marlowe- who shortened his name the same way."

They climb the fire escape, step over to the balcony, and she unlocks the door; as it opens, a small voice yells, "MOM!" and they hear fast little footsteps running across the apartment. She steps in and crouches down to meet a little ball of energy, a slender boy with wild long black hair bouncing with every step. He throws himself into his mother's arms and laughs.

Loki presses a hand over his mouth in absolute awe of this little person who looks so much like him and so much like Violetta. Natasha stands from the couch and puts away the stack of books in her lap.

"Come on, Kit. Let your mom get in the door. You need to help me pick up. Auntie Nat needs to get some sleep tonight." He skips back to the couch and helps pick up the toys and books scattered around it. Natasha notices Loki and drops the stack in her hands, "You're back."

"Yes. For good this time. And under remarkable circumstances."

"Oh?"

"Asgard satisfied her justice by taking my long life. I will live as long as one of you."

"How is that justice?"

"Because I gave up my title, my life, most of the sorcery in these fingers, before I knew if I would have a place here. Our king saw it as a fitting sacrifice."

"So why are you here?"

He watches Violetta hang up her bag and put her shoes in a cupboard, Kit eager to help, "Because here is where I am loved."

Violetta smiles at him and Natasha takes a deep breath, "OK. So I guess we've got a few changes coming."

"I don't want to be an intrusion. But I do want to know my family."

"That might be considered an intrusion."

Violetta stands and lifts Kit to her hip, "Nat...no. This is us. He's home. We'll make this work. You're not going to lose your evenings with Kit. We're family. And that includes you."

Natasha finishes picking up and refills her travel mug with coffee, "Good. Because I think I'd be strongly opposed to losing evenings...or changing our mornings. But I'll let you get settled in. I think there's an introduction you're going to want to make without me in your hair." She kisses Violetta's cheek as she passes, "Call me if you need anything, Vi." She stops in front of Loki, "And you'd damned well better be telling the truth or I'll take matters into my own hands. I won't even call Thor."

"I assure you, I am."

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't quite trust your word yet." Loki wants to quip asking when he has ever lied to her but instead finds it better to hold his tongue and bow his head to Natasha in acknowledgement. She doesn't expect the silence and leaves quickly.

The door once again closed, Kit snuggles into his mother's neck, "I missed you, Momma. I like Auntie Nat, but I had a bad dream and she's not the same."

"Is that why you're still awake?"

"Yeah. We got out books."

"Do you want to tell me about your dream?"

He shakes his head, "Dad was chased by bad men. Me, too."

Loki rests his hand on Violetta's shoulder as she comforts her son, "I don't think you're ever going to have to worry about that again."

"But what if they got him?"

"They didn't."

"Do you know?"

"Yes. I do."

"How?"

She takes a deep breath, "Because I'd like you to meet him. Kit, this man is your father. His name is Loki. He's come home. And he's staying."

Loki smiles at the little face studying him, "Hello."

"Hi. It's gonna be weird to have a dad."

"It will be an adjustment for me to have a son to raise, too. But I think we can help one another out, don't you?"

"Maybe." He hugs Violetta a little more tightly, "But I might not like it at first."

"Understood. I know my brother wasn't fond of me when he was quite young and I was first brought home- I was adopted. He thought I was going to replace him and our mother, especially, wouldn't have time for him. He was wrong, of course- love doesn't work that way. But it did take him time to get used to me."

"Where's he? Does he love you now?"

"Yes he does. Very much. But he lives so very far away that we don't see each other often. And my poor choices made it even harder."

"Did you say you're sorry?"

"I did. And I got to see him before I came here. He knows where I will be and I hope he will come visit us some day. I think he would love to meet you. He has always liked to play with children."

"I never had an uncle. Or a dad."

"I know. Shall we read a few books and let your mother get settled in?"

"Mom has snacks when she gets home."

"Well, then, I suppose that means it's even more important for her to have a few moments to prepare them. Do you share her snacks?"

"Sometimes. When I'm awake."

"Excellent. Perhaps we can all take a bite together."

Kit giggles, "You talk funny. But I like you." He squirms down from Violetta's arms and skips to the bookshelf.

Loki grins at Violetta, "He's precious."

"And bold. Just like his father."

"And his mother."

"And you'd better get over there for storytime before he decides to mutiny."

Loki kisses her cheek, "Ah, do we have a little god of mischief on our hands?"

"I've got two of them, apparently," she says, playfully shoving him towards the couch. She goes to the kitchen area.

He sits on the couch; Kit clambers up beside him, "Here, this one."

"'Crazy Hair'- by a Mr Neil Gaiman. Are you trying to tell me something about what you think of my locks?" he gently teases.

Kit tousles his own hair, "Have you seen mine? In the morning, it goes POOF! Just like his. But there's no bears in mine."

"A bear? In hair? Well, that certainly would be crazy hair. Shall we read?"

"YES!" Kit bounces, clapping. They read. After, they have apple slices and cheese for a snack, Loki nibbling only a few bites of apple. He leans on the doorframe while Violetta tucks Kit into bed. As she goes to turn out the light, the boy jumps up and runs to Loki. He crouches down to meet him. The first time those small arms wrap around his neck, Loki feels his heart swell with joy he didn't know it was possible to feel.

"Night, Dad."

"Goodnight, my precious child."

Kit bounces back to his bed and cuddles under the blankets, "Bye bye, lights."

She turns them out and they retreat to the other bedroom. She sits on the edge of the bed and he settles next to her, tears in his eyes from hearing his son call him Dad.

"I left my satchel in the other room." He wipes his eyes.

"Don't worry about that right now." She puts her arm around his shoulders, "Right now, just rest. Enjoy your family. And show me you without the illusion."

"I would rather not."

"Please. I can't help take care of you this way. And I can feel your bones through your clothes. I know it's bad. Just...please. Trust me."

He nods and the illusion glimmers away. His face is gaunt, haunted, his eyes and cheeks sunken. His hands are skeletal and she can clearly see the tendons in his throat. She brushes his cheek and gently kisses his jaw.

"I'm sorry. It's...been rough."

"We'll go slow. But we're going to take the time to get you healthy. And you're going to let me see you at least when it's just us alone at night."

"Don't ask me to show Kit this. It would frighten him."

"OK."

He sighs and she takes his hand, "Thank you, Violetta."

"You're welcome, Loki."

She helps him out of his suit jacket and he stops her before she tosses it on a chair; he pulls the key out of the watch pocket, "I need to return this to you."

"Keep it. You'll probably need it."

He sets it on the granite top bedside table, "I told Thor it was the symbolic key to my heart."

"You're a hopeless romantic, darling. Just like me."

"You won't mind if I shower you in little gestures? Flowers you discover at your desk? Chocolate in coffee in the morning? Time to braid your hair or weave it in the complex manner Aesir women wear? Kisses on the balcony in the early morning before Kit rises?"

She smiles, "That sounds like heaven."

"We've only known one another five days. I had to check."

"Five days spread out over eight years. Don't forget that detail."

"Very true. And on this, we base a life. I'm certain there are many in your world, as in mine, who say such a thing is impossible."

"Yeah, pretty much. Gloria's one of them."

"Would you bring me my satchel? I would like to show you something." She retrieves it and hands it to him. He pulls out the two books from his collection and sets them beside the key, "I have a few other books I would like to bring. Would you mind adding shelves?"

"I'll line that opposite wall with them, if you want. Floor to ceiling. Bring whatever books you'd like."

"You are a saint, woman." She laughs. He sets out his clothes. She moves hers over and hangs his pants and trousers on the clothing bar. His Midgardian clothes from four years before are in bad enough shape she's not sure she can repair them. But his scarves, suit jackets, trousers, ties, and shirts, few of each he has, hang beside his garments brought from Asgard on her rack.

"There. That's a good place for them. What do you think?"

"Perfect." He brings the package from Thor out and sets it on the bed, "And I would like you sitting beside me when I open this." She does and she watches him carefully unwrap the silk cord and pull back the fabric protecting the contents. There are two bundles within. One is rectangular and folded in cotton. The other is rolled in a soft velvet. He slips the cotton off the rectangle and hands her his Stark phone. "Thor saved it for me. I don't know that it would still work."

"We can always charge it and find out. It's not like he could use it in Asgard. I doubt cell signal works that far away."

He takes a moment before unrolling the velvet, "I know what is in here. Well, at least the sort of thing. Not very much in specificity." She rests a hand on his back and he carefully rolls it open. On the deep midnight velvet, it glitters. Jewellery. Precious stones set in necklaces, rings, earrings, combs, a small tiara. Gold bracelets and cuffs. And one flexible gold moon shaped collar that Loki raises to his own chest. "Before I had my own armour, this was a part of my court dress. It would have fit me when I was about Kit's size until...oh, I was an older boy. When I was old enough to carry a battle standard into war. Then I would have had it integrated into my leather armour as a part of the breastplate."

"It's beautiful."

"Would you allow me to gift it to him? Even if only when he is older?"

"Of course. He's your son, too."

Loki smiles and gestures to the glittering gems, "These were my mother's. Thor has kept most of her treasures for his future queen. But this is my inheritance. I expected him to strip it from me, but he had it set aside when I returned." He pauses, "This means it is mine to hand to my lover or wife and I would be greatly honoured if you would accept this gift. She meant a great deal to me. And so do you."

"You hardly know me..."

"And yet I love you."

She nods and brushes her fingers over the stones, "Yes. I accept. I don't know where I'll wear something so fine, but yes.

Her touch lingers over one of the rings and he picks it up, "You favour this one?"

"It's stunning."

"Thor once told me there is a tradition in Midgard of gifting a woman a ring when one asks her to be the queen of his household. It is often presented on bended knee." He gingerly slides down off the bed and presents her the ring, "Will you be mine?"

She gives him her hand and he slips it on her finger, "Yes. I will."

"It's a little loose. We will have to find a goldsmith to size it so it is not lost."

"I know someone we can trust. It's beautiful. Is that a star sapphire?"

"Yes. And emeralds."

She pats the bed, "Come back up." He does. "We have a lot to learn about each other. But we're going to make this work. For us. For Kit. Even when it's hard."

Loki wraps up the jewellery and sets it in the bedside table drawer, "I agree. And you will have to teach me how courtship and marriage work in this realm, if you desire to wed."

"I do. Even if the institution doesn't mean much to me...well, the formality is important for children. And for taking care of one another."

"Perhaps we can find books..."

"First, you need to sleep."

"I haven't any clothes to sleep in."

"You know what I do for work. Nudity doesn't bother me. Sleep naked. I do sometimes. It's nothing my kid hasn't seen."

"Oh. I though it was taboo in your culture."

"Culture-smulture. I don't care about that. We're born naked, we can handle it in our adult years." She grins, "Beside, it sure makes some things easier..."

"I'm not feeling up to that tonight, Violetta."

"I know. I don't expect it. Ever, actually. Expect. It's a gift, not something I have any right to. Sex is nice, but it's got to be a mutual thing. Let's just focus on getting you healthy right now. And if it happens, it happens. No pressure." She turns down the bed and helps him undress. She can see far too many bones through his skin. She has him lay on his stomach and she gently massages his shoulders, easing tension from his body until he is snoring.

She whispers to him, knowing he cannot hear, "Remember the question you asked? If I'd found what I was looking for? I said maybe. I thought so. I didn't know. I did. It was you. And now there's one more question answered." She smiles and lays down beside him, drifting off to sleep cuddled against the warmth of his body. There will be time for adventures later. This, though, is time for healing.