Notes: In which we come to the end of this adventure. Thanks to everyone who has read, commented, and generally just been there. Your fortitude should be celebrated in song and story!

Warnings: For another huge chapter. (And it actually could be worse, I left some stuff out when I realized just how unwieldy it was getting!) There was simply no point in splitting this chapter into parts when the overall purpose was the same, but I apologize for going all Return of the King on you.

Also, industrial-strength fluff. I thank you in advance for your patience on both scores.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Annie supposed a human would assume that, she being a ghost and therefore dead, her heart couldn't pound. It turned out the regular human would have been wrong: the sight of Thor walking toward them across the roof, out of the maelstrom created by the Bifrost, smiling, made her- her shade, Loki would call it- remember the physical sensations of fear and anxiety and most of all hope. And it felt like her heart was going to come bursting right out of her chest.

Thor was an Avenger, and Annie would normally have let him speak to Steve and Tony and the others first, waited for them to settle any pending Avengers business, before she interfered. It would have seemed appropriate to do so. But at the moment, Annie did not care a hang for what was appropriate. Thor was back, and he was smiling, and for the first time since Loki had crashed to the street tangled with the Deathwing two days before, Annie did not feel as if she had a Jotun standing on her ribs.

"Is he all right?" she demanded, still on the other side of the roof because nobody wanted to get too close to the business end of the Bifrost while it was still active. At the moment, Annie didn't care. She started toward Thor, was aware of Mitchell and George close behind her, not caring either, and even though the smile could only mean one thing she repeated, "Is he?"

"Is he okay?" Mitchell echoed, possibly for the benefit of the Avengers, or possibly because he couldn't help himself.

"Yes," Thor replied gently. "My brother is almost entirely recovered. He would have come in person, but travel is still somewhat taxing for him, and we persuaded him not to overextend himself."

"OhthankGod," Tony said, as though it was all one word, and of course unable to hear Annie having mild hysterics at the idea of anyone persuading Loki not to overdo it. "I really thought… when he hit the ground, I was sure he was dead."

"He was dead," George said, very quietly.

Not so quietly that Thor couldn't hear him, however.

"Yes," Thor agreed. "He was. But he asked me to relay to you: it transpired he was actually only mostly dead. He told me his friends would understand what that meant."

What it meant was, Annie suddenly found herself bawling like a complete idiot in the middle of the roof of Stark Tower, while the boys patted her back and pretended they weren't crying, too.

"Sorry," she sniffled finally. "I'm just relieved." Thor wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close, and briefly rested his chin on top of her head in a way that reminded her of his brother.

"That, as Jane would say, makes two of us." Releasing Annie, Thor stepped back and addressed the group in general: "I have come to deliver not only this news, but also an invitation from the Allfather, to join us in Asgard for a celebration of the successful alliance between Asgard and Midgard, and our new accord with Jotunheim."

"Our planet gets saved from aliens, and Asgard's the one that throws the party?" Clint observed.

Thor's face suddenly relaxed into a grin.

"Well," he explained, "we do throw very good parties."

~oOo~

There was quite a crowd, and considerable chatter, in Heimdall's observatory after the Avengers' delegation arrived, but Thor's booming voice cut across everything.

"My friends!" he exclaimed. "Welcome to Asgard!"

Most of the Avengers had not, of course, experienced travel by Bifrost before. As a result, they were still trying to put their eyes back in their heads when Annie, George, and Mitchell went sidling between them. It wasn't that they weren't grateful to Thor for the welcome, just that they no longer needed the orientation. What they did need to do was to look for-

"Hello," Loki said, pushing off from the wall he had been leaning against, and stepping forward.

The costume he'd worn during the battle had taken quite a beating, even before he'd gotten hit with the spell from the Casket, so it should have been no real surprise he was dressed in Asgardian clothes. They probably came from the wardrobe in his old chambers. Back home, Loki almost never wore green, in fact he almost seemed to have an aversion to it, but, in spite of his alarming pallor and the bruised-looking circles under his eyes, it was actually not a bad colour on him.

Nobody was surprised to see he wasn't wearing armour, which Loki probably would have considered a provocation to the court. His tunic and soft trousers had an informal, if not relaxed, look about them, suggesting they were possibly the Asgardian equivalent of jeans and a hoodie- which certainly wouldn't have suited the old Loki who never let his guard down. There was an un-broken-in quality to his clothing that indicated it was something he hadn't worn very often in his previous life. Maybe he'd actually chosen this outfit specifically because there were few memories associated with it. He was still so thin that it didn't fit particularly well, and he certainly didn't look natural in it.

On the other hand, there was a softness in and around Loki's eyes, in his whole bearing, a lack of tension, that hadn't been there since he'd left for work on the morning of his disappearance.

On second thought, Annie realized as she approached him, she had never seen Loki look this peaceful.

He smiled rather sheepishly, held out his hands in apology, and began,

"I appear to have wasted that lovely farewell speech. I really am sor- mmph!" Whatever he intended to say turned into a muffled squeak of surprise as Annie, with an air of taking no prisoners, caught hold of the front of his tunic, pulled him forward, and kissed him hard enough to render both of them breathless. Loki flailed a little as he was jerked forward, but caught his balance as he wrapped his arms around her.

When Annie finally pulled back, Loki looked up to find George and Mitchell grinning at them.

"Just as well she shut you up," Mitchell remarked, reaching over Annie to ruffle Loki's hair. "You were about to say something really stupid."

"As soon as we get home," George announced, "I'm going to buy a water pistol, specially for when you start talking like that. And I intend to use it, just so you know."

"I've got a spray bottle I used to use when I had to dampen my hair," Annie contributed, still with one arm firmly around Loki's waist. "I think it's in the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom. You can use that."

"Good idea," Mitchell congratulated. Loki, his smile suddenly wobbly, looked around at his friends and managed to blurt,

"I really am terribly glad to see you all."

"Oh, shut it," George muttered, partly into Loki's shoulder, as he embraced him.

Loki had just straightened up and released George (and also Mitchell, but somehow not Annie) when he was seized again by the front of his tunic, and found himself gazing down into the fanatical-looking eyes of Tony Stark.

"Pull a stunt like that one more time and, magical consultant or no magical consultant, I swear to God I'll personally kick your ass from here to Valhalla," the Iron Man announced. Loki blinked down at the human, and then his face lit up in an impish smile. He caught Tony by the back of the head with his free hand, pulled him forward, and kissed him firmly on the forehead.

"I love you too, Tony," he smirked, and released the man. Tony made an inarticulate noise of menace that somehow entirely failed to be intimidating, patted Loki on the chest, and walked away. He joined Steve, who made a complicated face that combined apology for Tony's behaviour with pleasure at seeing Loki upright and conscious.

Loki sighed happily. "I should probably be ashamed to confess how pleased I am, to see such evidence that you missed me, but- Ouch!" he interrupted himself, starting violently.

"Sorry, I seem to have pinched you," Annie remarked cheerfully. "That's what you get for saying silly things when you're not wearing armour."

"Also, water pistol," George threatened.

"We did miss you," Mitchell said kindly. "And surely you're not such an idiot that you thought we wouldn't."

"Well, no," Loki admitted. "But it is still gratifying, to see it for myself."

Mitchell smiled. "Fair enough. How's Asgard been treating you, this time around?"

"I have not really seen anyone except my family and Eir, the healer," Loki admitted. Correctly interpreting the others' silence as an indication they wanted to hear more, he added, "For a being who talks as much as I do, it seems strange even to me to admit that this is the first time I can ever remember really talking to my parents, but it has been… pleasant." He considered his choice of word, then amended, "What I mean to say is, it has been of great comfort to me, and I think perhaps to all of us."

"I can tell," Annie said. "Your shoulders aren't anything like as rigid as they always used to be in Asgard. You always looked like you were waiting for someone to hit you."

"Looked like- ?" George echoed, and the other three made faces of agreement.

"It seems unlikely that will happen on this particular visit," Loki assured them.

"Among other things, even if you kept your cool, Thor would kill them," Annie said.

"Yes, if there was anything left after my mother was finished with them," Loki murmured.

"Oh, yeah?" Mitchell asked, as the others brightened up. "Progress?"

"Considerable," Loki replied, with a smile.

"That's good," Annie said softly. "That's wonderful."

"Yes," Loki agreed. He shook his head, the smile becoming slightly rueful, and added, "She has, perhaps, still too strong a tendency toward wishful thinking- she tells herself, for instance, that the Jotun have really forgiven me, when I think we can all agree that what Byleistr offered fell several steps short of actual forgiveness." Recalling the encounter, Annie had to admit Loki was right about that. "Not," he added hastily, "that I am ungrateful, or ask for more. And… we have talked, my family and I, and we seem to be approaching at least some understanding of each other, which is greatly to be wished for. We… we are all willing to try."

Annie squeezed his hand, and then Loki glanced past his friends to where Thor seemed to be gathering the Avengers, prior to shepherding them out of the observatory. "It appears the Avengers are about to set out for the palace, so perhaps we should go on ahead and leave off blocking the doorway."

~oOo~

Annie, George, and Mitchell had no reason to be alarmed about being called into the presence of the Allfather. In the first place, there really was nothing to be scared of. In the second, they were with the Avengers, who were invited guests. And besides, they had encountered Odin on a couple of informal occasions recently that confirmed that, when he was being Loki's dad rather than Asgard's king, the Allfather really wasn't scary at all.

However, their only previous trip to the throne room had come on their first involuntary visit to Asgard, after they'd been snatched from the jaws of vampires and dumped into Heimdall's observatory with no warning, and no indication Loki could expect any sort of welcome. In fact Loki, assuming he would be blamed for defying the Allfather's edict of banishment, had worked himself into such a state over the possible horrific outcomes- mostly, it seemed, afraid that that his friends might get tarred with the same brush and share his punishment- that his housemates couldn't help but be frightened, too.

As things turned out, of course, nobody had gotten dragged away in chains after all. In fact, once they'd established how Loki had gotten back to Asgard (read: not his fault) and what he'd been doing when the Bifrost picked him up (read: fighting evil) the Allfather had become practically human. By the housemates' (flexible) standards of "human," anyway.

Actually, it had been clear from an early stage that Odin had known the answers to all his questions of Loki before he even asked them, that nothing Loki said was a surprise to him. It would have been less brutal to hold the entire interview someplace more private than under the eyes of an entire court who might not really have hated Loki for his entire life, but certainly had no love for him anymore. Loki had later expressed the belief the Allfather had wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding about how Loki managed to escape punishment this time.

Annie, privately, was of the opinion that- since it had become clear Odin suffered from guilt as badly, if not as visibly, as Loki did- the public nature of that interview had been mostly Odin trying to make some sort of confused amends to his son for centuries of lies and then months of rumour. As if he wanted things to be above-board and out in the open from now on, but maybe hadn't thought through whether Loki might want everything to be quite as out in the open as all that.

She was, however, also of the belief that a hidden part of Odin had wanted to thumb his nose at everyone who believed Loki's final rampage in Asgard reflected his true character rather than an explosion of pent-up desperation. Annie couldn't bring herself to begrudge Odin that- as the interview went on, and the nature of Loki's activities on Earth was made progressively more obvious, she had found herself glaring round at the unfriendly faces that surrounded them, her expression clearly saying, See? Not so bad!

Despite knowing all that, the memory of how scared she had been the first time she walked into the throne room- not, in spite of Loki's anxieties, for herself or the boys, but for Loki himself- still infected Annie's outlook, and she found herself holding Loki's hand very firmly as they all approached the door of the huge chamber. He squeezed back, and smiled down at her, and it was with a distinct lift in her spirit (heh) that Annie realized, for once, Loki wasn't nervous at all, was completely free of apprehension about what his father might do or what his reception might be.

You had to figure, from Loki's point of view, a little thing like being temporarily killed by a monster was a small price to pay for that feeling. It was probably the first time he'd had it in his entire life.

This time, the court wasn't assembled, and Odin wasn't on his great golden throne, towering over his subjects. Instead, he waited for his guests at the foot of the dais, and he was not alone. At his right hand was the old general, Tyr. And, looming at the Allfather's left, although somehow still not dwarfing him, were Helblindi and the Jotun general with the great curving ram's horns, the one Tony persistently referred to as "Thrym the Enchanter" even though, over the last couple of days, nobody in the group- including Tony- had been in much of a mood to find the joke at all funny.

The sight of the two Jotun did make Loki's hand tighten reflexively on Annie's, before he got control of himself again. Annie glanced up and saw Loki's eyes searching the Allfather's face, as if looking for reassurance that whatever happened next would be something he could handle. He didn't look afraid of Helblindi and Thrym, Annie was glad to realize, or even distrustful of Odin (which made Annie even gladder)- just instinctively apprehensive about the situation.

Glancing past Loki, Annie was relieved to see an expression of puzzlement on Thor's face, too. Good. As long as both brothers were equally out of the loop, there was no reason for Loki's insecurities to kick back in.

And just as she thought that, Loki turned his head slightly toward Thor, who made a tiny face indicating his own confusion, and perhaps a slight hint of, "well, you know Father never tells us anything." It seemed to be all Loki needed, because he faced front again looking both bewildered and relieved.

Odin had by now stepped forward, and Nick Fury detached himself from the group.

"I bid you welcome," Odin said, and Nick Fury gave a matter-of-fact and perfectly natural bow.

"I am glad to have the opportunity to express my gratitude, on behalf of my comrades and our realm," Fury said, the formality of his speech nearly making Annie burst into nervous giggles. It wasn't that Fury didn't positively radiate dignity, it was just that he normally expressed it very differently. Fury, she reflected, was a bit of a shapeshifter himself.

"As do we, on behalf of our realm and our king," Helblindi spoke up next. Fury turned slightly toward the Jotun, and the old giant went on, "It is thanks to your efforts that Jotunheim was able to avoid a disastrous war, and that the means to restore our realm has been returned to us." Fury, who probably had no idea what the second part of that speech meant, inclined his head respectfully. Helblindi went on, "I come to extend an invitation from my king, for you to pay a visit, and personally receive the thanks of our people."

Annie moved slightly closer to Loki, checked his expression again. It was perfectly impassive, and Annie suddenly wondered whether, if Odin looked at Loki, he would even realize there was anything wrong. She believed Loki when he said progress was being made, but even if he switched from king to dad right now, there was no telling whether Odin would see what she did, because surely Loki's poker face was what Asgard was used to. At home, on the other hand, Loki only wore the expression that concealed his emotions when he actually had something to hide.

There was no reason to think Loki was included in the invitation, and Annie could tell by the sudden pinched look around his eyes that he desperately wanted to be. Not so much for the thanks-of-a-grateful-populace- even if it was offered he'd probably never stop being too ashamed to accept it- but…

… But, it was where he was born, and where his mother had died, and Annie suddenly knew Loki wanted to go back, even just once, as… As something besides an enemy. Just to see the place with eyes that weren't blinded with hatred, with a heart that wasn't filled with anger and fear that really had never been about the poor Jotun in the first place.

The little tell around Loki's eyes smoothed out, and as he felt Annie looking at him he glanced down with the shadow of a smile. It's okay, was what he was saying, and since there was no alternative it had to be, but he really seemed to mean it. Maybe having some of the things he had always wanted meant he could now let go of the things he couldn't. Or maybe he was now so far beyond the borders of what he thought he deserved that he couldn't imagine asking for anything else.

Annie still leaned against him and held his had in both of hers, so he'd know she was sorry this particular door was closed to him.

And as a result she almost didn't hear Helblindi say,

"You may, perhaps, wish to see where your late mother lies," and she and Loki realized at the same moment the words were addressed to him. His hand tightened involuntarily on hers again, as surprise made his face go suddenly open and vulnerable.

"I… I thought… " he faltered. "You would allow me- ?"

"My king has given the matter great thought," Helblindi said serenely, "and it seemed to him that your efforts on behalf of our realm deserve more than grudging lip service."

Annie, remembering Byleistr's words to Thor, across Loki's corpse, wondered whether the king had decided he had been hasty, or whether Helblindi had made a plea of his own on behalf of Gunnlod's child.

Thor remembered the exchange as well, and in fact so far forgot himself as to blurt,

"He did not seem to think so, when- " This would have been an ideal time for Odin to come out with the awful growling noise Loki had told them about, but Thor realized what he was doing and shut up on his own.

Helblindi gave Thor a look that suggested the elder prince of Asgard was about five years old and doing something cute, and explained,

"When Byleistr-King spoke, he was not acquainted with the entire circumstances." To Loki, he said, "Thrym's men, when they reported the incident later, made rather a point of your refusal to allow them to serve as a diversion when you attacked the Deathwing."

A red flush was crawling up Loki's throat to his face. He muttered, "It did not occur to me to do so." Annie wanted to smack him, because he didn't seem to understand that it hadn't occurred to him to do so.

"By which you mean, you ordered the Aesir troops out of the way and then practically begged the Jotun troops to do likewise," Thrym spoke for the first time. "And, also, to do whatever it took to protect the Casket from being exposed to the curse on the creature."

"It made rather an impression," Helblindi said dryly. "And on further consideration, Byleistr-King is of the mind that there does indeed come a time when not only should a crime be seen to have been paid for, but the page should be turned upon it."

"I… really do not deserve- " Loki began, which was such a Loki thing to say that Annie nearly pinched him again. Really, you could almost always tell when Loki really wanted something, because that was the very thing he would most steadfastly refuse to allow himself to have. Annie was just grateful that, when he had crashed into the dustbins behind the house, he had been too confused and exhausted to do anything besides let her take charge of him. If he'd realized she was trying to befriend him, he probably would have thrown himself into traffic or something.

Except, of course, just now he was probably right: if he'd been someone Annie didn't love, who had done what he did to the Jotun, she might not have thought any kind of amends were enough, either.

"My king thinks differently," Helblindi said mildly, which was when Annie really understood what was happening. It was evident from Loki's expression that he was well ahead of her.

"You would forgive me?" Loki asked, in a strangled little voice.

Helblindi inclined his head. "Yes."

The bow Loki made to the Jotun councilor was perhaps a little lower than etiquette strictly called for, but at least it concealed the fact he was crying again.

~oOo~

The Jotunheim Loki remembered, the one under rule by Laufey and deprived of the Casket's power, had been a dark and hopeless place. Exactly how the Casket had been deployed was not something the Jotun cared to share with their visitors, and Loki certainly did not describe his own unnervingly successful efforts to use it was a weapon- the only part of his makeshift plans that seemed to have worked at all, although leaving Heimdall alive had been fortuitous rather than intentional. The Casket was none of his business, never had been, and as far as he was concerned it should now and for all time be left in the hands of the true Jotun and their king.

However, if his own resurrection had not been sufficient proof of the non-destructive possibilities of the Casket, what it had done for Jotunheim was more than evidence enough. The sky was clear and the sun sparkled on the snow and ice, living white and blue, so bright it was almost impossible for creatures without the Jotuns' red-adapted eyes to look upon it. Alone of the Avengers' group, only Steve seemed unmoved by the beauty of the place- which, when one recalled his seventy years' sleep in an icy prison, was understandable.

Loki, for his part, still hated to be cold, but as he huddled in his cloak, for once the feeling of cold was not accompanied by fear. Instead, as he looked around, Loki was aware the moisture in his eyes was not caused solely by the glare.

There were new signs of life on the realm. Ruins were being cleared away- some of them so fresh that Loki could not bear to look at them, others obviously left behind from the war- and there was evidence of peaceful activity. Loki had never before seen a Jotun who was not a soldier- well, he had no memory of ever having seen one- but as they walked from the Bifrost landing site, the people who stopped and watched them were obviously civilians.

Some more obviously than others: as they approached the palace, they passed a collection of rather humble dwellings, and Loki became aware they were under surveillance by a group of very small Jotun, none of them any bigger than George. For a moment, he thought they must be runts like himself. But after a moment their erratic, scampering movements, their shyness combined with openly staring curiosity, and something about their proportions- particularly the size of their heads compared to their bodies- gave the truth away. Loki realized these were actual Jotun children, young ones indeed, utterly fascinated by the strange little visitors.

It turned out children have a great deal in common everywhere, and before long a couple of the bolder ones were following so closely that the Avengers- who perhaps did not completely understand the situation- were becoming uneasy. Annie, on the other hand, was beginning to giggle.

It was perhaps unfair of Loki, to see Patrick and Trevor wherever he went, but he considered it wise to keep an eye on the situation. As a result, he was watching when one of the boys- he was persuaded this one was a boy, though he was certainly no expert on Jotun children- reached curiously out to touch Tony Stark's arm.

Tony was wearing heavy Asgardian outer clothing and a cloak, and it was quite possible a child as young as this one would be unable to do him much harm with a touch. Still, Loki reached out to intercept the boy's hand, just in case. And then Thrym turned at the crucial moment and let out a truly terrifying roar, which seemed to indicate Tony was indeed about to be injured- or, of course, it might have been a simple rebuke for impudence.

The child started backward, and one did not have to be a Jotun nursery teacher to recognize his expression of hurt and alarm. Loki found himself instinctively shaking off a glove and holding out his hand. The child, despite being nearly as tall as he was, grabbed it as though for comfort. Had no one ever taught this little one to be wary of strangers?

Of course, it was quite likely he had never seen a stranger before now.

The child clutched Loki's hand- and then shrieked in what was manifestly startled delight, as the strange Aesir paw went blue in his grasp. It crossed Loki's mind that he had, to the child, just turned from a monster into something familiar and apparently harmless.

The other little ones scurried forward, curiosity clearly winning the battle against either caution or respect for their elders. Thrym did not intervene again, possibly feeling Loki deserved all he got for encouraging the urchins, and Helblindi was by now watching the interaction with open amusement. The children all began to chatter excitedly at each other in the Alltongue.

"He is a shapeshifter!" they informed each other, with a grasp of the obvious rivaling that of any young Briton. And then, addressing Loki, at least three of them said together, "Grimgerde is a shapeshifter, too!" Grimgerde was a little girl- definitely a little girl, judging by the name- hanging on the fringe of the group. "Show him, show him!" her comrades began to chant, apparently wishing to impress the strangers. Grimgerde, for her part, looked partly overcome with shyness and partly desperately eager to demonstrate her accomplishment.

"I wish you would," Loki told her, as the rest of the group- finally realizing there was no cause for alarm- made encouragingly friendly noises of their own. Grimgerde wriggled in embarrassed delight-

- and then turned into a small gray bird, her skimpy Jotun garb falling empty into the snow as she fluttered onto Loki's shoulder.

"Oh, well done!" Loki exclaimed, turning his head to look at the little bird, who pecked gently at his chin with her tiny beak. "I was far older than you before I mastered birds." The bird-child preened herself and fluttered her wings, before flying back to her discarded clothing and perching on it. "Wait a moment," Loki said, understanding her hesitation- in the excitement of a transformation, even experienced shapeshifters sometimes forgot they would be in a state of undress when they shifted back. He released the first child's hand, unclasped his cloak, and dropped it gently over the bird.

A moment later there was a scuffling shape underneath the cloth, and then Grimgerde flung off the cloak with what amounted to a cry of "Ta-da!" which was greeted with applause from the visitors. Loki bowed elaborately to the child before swinging his cloak back over his shoulders.

"Lovely," he assured her, and then Thrym made another gruff noise and the children scampered away.

"You should not encourage them so," Thrym growled, although truly, he did not sound very angry.

"He can't help it," Annie replied boldly. "He's very good with children of all species."

"Even horses," Tony said helpfully, and George threw a snowball at him.

Loki, meanwhile, was having some trouble with the clasp of his cloak. His hands were suddenly terribly cold, and everything seemed far too bright once again. Of course the Jotun had children. He had known that. He had been one. And yet he had turned the Bifrost on their realm with less mercy than he showed toward ants-

There were hands at his throat, helping him with the clasp, and Thor said quietly,

"I did not think of their children, either."

Loki found himself wondering exactly when his brother had been given the ability to read his thoughts.

"They behaved as though I am worthy of their trust," Loki pointed out, in a desperate undertone.

"And now, you are," Thor pointed out calmly. "You are a talented sorcerer, brother, but even you cannot make time flow in any direction except forward." Cloak fastened, Thor rested his hands briefly on Loki's shoulders, then released him.

Loki meekly put his gloves back on, and the group resumed its trek toward the palace.

~oOo~

For obvious reasons, Loki was not singled out when the Avengers were presented as saviours to the people of Jotunheim- or at any rate to a selected group of representatives of the people of Jotunheim. Byleistr-King addressed himself almost exclusively to Odin and Nick Fury, and Fury was the one who accepted the formal thanks of Jotunheim on behalf of the Avengers.

Still, the Jotun king did speak briefly to Loki in his turn, as he did to the others. And none of the king's council actually spat at him, which was more than he deserved. Loki was left with the impression he would continue to exercise wisdom if he stayed away from Jotunheim, at least when traveling on his own, but really, he had been given colder receptions in Asgard before he had tried to usurp anything or wipe out anyone.

"I wonder, my king, if you could perhaps excuse the Allfather and his son, as well as myself, for a short time," Helblindi said quietly to Byleistr. The Jotun ruler did not seem surprised at the request. Odin having apparently spent part of Loki's recovery meeting with Byleistr and his council, presumably this had been arranged between them in advance.

It crossed Loki's mind to wonder whether Odin had also had a hand in Byleistr's offer of forgiveness, but he squelched that idea ruthlessly. Then he followed Odin and Helblindi out of the palace, across what was now recognizable as a courtyard, and toward a ruin that seemed to be in the process of reclamation. Loki's heart began to pound as they drew closer.

"The temple was badly damaged in the last days of the war," Helblindi explained. "Laufey set an ambush here when the first wave of Aesir soldiers entered the city, and it was partly destroyed in the ensuing battle." Loki nodded, looking from Helblindi to Odin and back. They entered the temple, and once again Helblindi spoke. "The altar still stands, as you see."

"Yes," Loki murmured, thinking perhaps he was supposed to be saying something.

"Your mother was here," Odin spoke up suddenly, gesturing to one side of the altar. "You were- " he stepped forward, indicating the floor behind the altar. "I would not have known you were there, if you had not cried out to me."

Loki chewed his lip and nodded. Helblindi cast a rather odd look at Odin, perhaps at the suggestion Loki had deliberately called to the Allfather. Loki conceded it was a notion more fanciful than one would expect of Odin, but for his part Loki found it warming, and Helblindi was too old and too canny to argue with a king.

Loki looked around, trying to imagine the scene, to picture the wary soldier-king entering the temple, alone-

Alone. What was he doing, the king, in this place by himself?

"Why were you alone, Father?" he heard himself ask, then suppressed a wince at his own question and waited for the noise.

It did not come.

"I was not alone, not with Gungnir," Odin replied quietly, walking around the altar to look at the spot where Loki had lain. "There was little for me to fear, and I did not like to bring troops all the way into the sanctuary. I wished to... to try to communicate with whatever powers might dwell here. I hoped they might… speak to me." He looked around, words trailing off, and both Loki and Helblindi let him. After a moment, Odin said, "And they did. I took you, and returned to my tent, sending word to my bodyguard to bury the body of Gunnlod-Queen, honourably, as she deserved. Later that same day, the Casket was captured, and the war was effectively over."

Loki shifted uncomfortably, glancing from his father to Helblindi, wondering just what wounds were being reopened. The Jotun would surely be justified in thinking him a child of ill-omen, that it would have been better had Laufey killed him outright, instead of his mother.

However, Helblindi merely said,

"Shall we pay a visit to the grave?"

~oOo~

Gunnlod having been kinswoman to the king, her grave was in the same process of reclamation as the temple and the rest of its grounds. There were signs of rubble having been cleared away from the stone cairn that covered her resting place. Neither Odin nor Helblindi spoke, and Loki was unable to think of anything to say. He did not know whether he imagined the feeling of… someone there, but he stood at the gravesite in silence for a long time, trying to hold onto the sensation, the knowledge that someone had died for love of him, without any requirement he be worthy of the sacrifice. He wondered, for a moment, whether anything would have been different, had he grown up knowing that. He realized there was little point in speculation about the past, but perhaps the thought was worth holding onto even now.

And then, finally, he realized he had stood too long, trespassed on the patience of both Helblindi and his father, and he turned away with a gesture of apology. Helblindi, his own eyes fixed on the past, did not seem to notice, but in the space left by Helblindi's silence, Odin brushed a hand against Loki's shoulder.

Then they walked back to the palace to rejoin the others.

~oOo~

Tony walked into the banquet hall with the rest of the superheroes, reflecting that whoever managed to export Asgardian hangover remedies to Earth would be a billionaire before the end of the quarter.

And whoever exported Asgardian booze would probably have the planet subjugated by next Thursday.

He knew he sounded like something out of a Norse myth, but he blamed the whole thing on Loki. And, okay, on Johnny Storm, too. Which meant Sif and- what was his name- Volstagg also had to come in for a share of the responsibility.

They had returned from the trip to Jotunheim to find out that Sif and the big guy had traveled back to Earth to round up the rest of the allies who'd participated in the battle. Tony wasn't ashamed to admit it, he'd felt a jolt of panic when he realized Magneto and Mystique had accepted the invitation, but Magneto and Xavier seemed to be taking the opportunity to… well, to hang out, away from the eyes of humans or the majority of their allies on either side. Magneto was smart enough to relax when he didn't have a point to make, and it was kind of touching how both of them seemed to enjoy the chance to let their guard down together.

Mystique was smart, but in Tony's experience there was never a moment when she didn't have a point to make, and he had never known her to let down her guard. However, astonishingly, Clint and Natasha stepped up and claimed her, all assassins together, and the three of them went off with Thor's buddies the Warriors for a tour of the armoury. Tony carefully did not think about what sort of "fun" they might be having together. He just frankly hoped Fandral was recovered from what Thor had said was a very nasty battle wound.

Which left the Fantastic Four, although Sue and Reed were so interested in learning all about Asgard (for Science!) that the only ones who needed to be entertained were Johnny and Ben. Thor was doing the Crown Prince of Asgard shtick, backed up by Sif, with the two sensible Fantastics and Storm and whichever of the Avengers wanted the grand tour, and when it became obvious that Johnny and Ben weren't interested, Thor had suggested that his brother-

Oh. Okay. So the whole thing was actually Thor's fault.

Anyway, Thor had explained there was a tavern in Asgard but, for class-related reasons (which should have been entirely incomprehensible to an American citizen but, in fact, were not) the residents of the palace were not precisely welcome there. But Loki, apparently, was, and Thor suggested that perhaps Loki could accompany Johnny and Ben and whoever else wanted to go, and they could all have a pleasant drink.

Yeah, Thor. Great idea.

Now, you might have expected, Tony being a guy who was all for Science, that he would join Steve and Bruce and Rhodey in Thor's museum-tour group. Not on your life. If, on Asgard, Magic and Science were pretty much interchangeable, then that meant Loki was pretty much Stephen Hawking, and that was the guy Tony wanted to be explaining Asgard to him.

Right. Yes. For Science.

Anyway, Loki had seemed a little nervous about going back to the tavern, as if he thought his welcome might have been withdrawn, but that was frankly so much like Loki that Tony paid very little attention to him. It turned out Loki was worried because he had pulled rank and thrown his weight around some to get the Asgardian troops to leave the Deathwing to him, and he thought maybe the fact he'd made a point of his status might have… changed things. But since this was not, in fact, mythology, the soldiers seemed to have no objections to not being killed, gloriously or otherwise, and also they apparently viewed rank as there to be pulled in the first place, particularly by princes whether banished or not.

All of which was to say the group's welcome was warm, and Asgardian girls found Johnny Storm just as irresistible as Earth girls did, and at one point Tony seemed to remember himself and Loki yelling across a table at each other, Loki explaining something about magic that seemed mesmerizing at the time although now Tony couldn't remember a word of it, while (and okay, he had to have hallucinated this part) the musicians in the corner played "The Black Velvet Band."

After that, everything was kind of a blur, until he woke up this morning in a dogpile in what turned out to be Loki's bed, his arms around a werewolf and Johnny Storm draped over both of them, Mitchell and Loki practically hanging off the mattress on either side. If he hadn't been so sick it would have been kind of funny. And if his mouth hadn't felt like the tomb of the Deathwing, he probably would have kissed one of the amused-looking young maids who turned up at the crucial moment bearing platters of greasy breakfast food, and about sixteen gallons of tea.

Tony now understood the tea thing. Totally.

And then Coulson had showed up, impeccable as always, and shepherded assorted superheroes off to make themselves presentable for the ceremonies that evening, while Loki, the fink, quietly sloped off somewhere with his housemates. Although he did actually sort of lay hands on everyone before he left, which left the superheroes feeling almost kind of human, and Loki looking nearly as green as the bedspread, and possibly also like it would be a good idea for him to lie down for a while.

Regardless, by evening Tony was completely recovered from what had been a four-star hangover, which had to be some kind of record and a tribute to both greasy Asgardian breakfasts and… whatever the hell Loki had done to them before he disappeared.

Which, come to think of it, was actually a little weird, since he'd looked like he desperately needed to go back to bed, and they'd all woken up in his bed. Tony had intended to give that some thought, but was distracted by the opulence of the banquet hall- which seriously made his house in Malibu look like a picture of Quaker modesty by comparison- and then by the sight of Odin, at the head table, rising to his feet. Everyone else in the room- and there was a lot of "everyone else"- also stood.

The guard escorting the Avengers and the other superheroes- and Loki's friends and Magneto and Mystique, but under the circumstances Tony figured it was okay to call everyone a superhero for the occasion- gestured to them to stand in an open space in front of the head table. The group formed up into ranks without being told, and Odin and Fury exchanged the same kind of formal greetings they had in the throne room the day before.

Tony took the opportunity to covertly eye the group at the head table: Odin of course, with the queen to his left, Thor to Odin's right, and Loki to the left of the queen. Thor looked… bigger, somehow. More golden and shiny than ever, as if he was reflecting Asgard, somehow. Glancing surreptitiously around, Tony found himself concluding that Thor was actually reflecting back the… the love of the place. Because it was evident, more than evident, in the faces of everyone who looked at him.

That was evidently not the case with his brother, who looked like nothing quite so much as the moon in daytime, barely visible in the light of the sun. He might have seemed less washed-out had he been wearing lighter-coloured clothing, but Tony was suddenly very aware it was only a couple of weeks since he and Coulson had busted Loki out of his cell, a couple of days since Loki had died, and the time in between hadn't been a tropical vacation for anyone, but probably a lot less so for Loki. He didn't look hungover anymore, just very tired.

Or, possibly, he too was reflecting back the love the court felt for him, because the expressions of the Asgardians, as they looked at the second prince, suddenly made Tony understand why Loki seemed so eager to get back to the scruffy little house in Bristol and mop some floors.

Loki kept his eyes dutifully fixed on Odin as the king spoke, but when the Earthling heroes finally moved to take their places at the long tables, he did shift his attention to them. Tony quickly checked to make sure the king and queen weren't looking, and then caught Loki's eye and made a horrible face at him. Loki's calmly impassive expression cracked into one of startled amusement, just for a second, and Tony felt much better as he took his seat.

It was not completely by accident that Tony found himself sitting next to Annie, who was totally a superhero, and according to Johnny Storm also a wicked hand with a fire extinguisher.

"Where did you guys vanish to, earlier?" Tony asked. "Loki and George both looked like they should go back to bed."

Annie looked both amused and a little exasperated. "Loki has a… thing… about his bedroom here. It's not exactly cozy, as you've probably noticed."

Tony shrugged. "Seemed cozy enough to me. Mind you, I think there were six of us in the bed."

"Yes, and none of you were in any state to pay attention to atmosphere," Annie agreed. "And before you suggest it, no, we're not keeping Loki drunk the whole time he's in Asgard. Eventually, he might start to feel differently, but for now there's a very short list of places here that he feels comfortable. One of them is a nice quiet reading room in the library- believe me, not a high-traffic spot- so the boys had a nap in the comfy chairs and I did some reading."

"I hear it's a well-stocked library," Tony said. "There's a book about the Beatles and everything."

"There's one about Jotunheim, too," Annie replied. "More than one, but the others were in runes or something. I think the one I looked at had a spell on it so it translated itself for whoever was trying to read it."

"Did you show it to Loki?" Tony asked.

"No, but the librarian said I could take it when we go, so long as I promise to make sure it's returned eventually."

"Yeah, just watch out for those Asgardian overdue fines," Tony muttered.

"The loan periods are pretty generous though," Annie pointed out. "What with everyone living for thousands of years or whatever it is. Anyway, it must have been written before the war, because there's a lot on culture and very little about evil monstrous Frost Giants. Loki can read it at home, when we get back."

"Sure he's going with you?" Tony asked, teasing.

"Not funny," Annie snapped, and refused to talk to him again until about the third course. Tony finally apologized, and not just because it was awkward having her mad at him and right at his elbow. He didn't have superpowers without the suit, but his hearing was perfectly fine and he was aware of voices at the table behind him, basically speculating about how someone had the nerve to show his face. It was pretty obvious they weren't talking about Thor, and Tony wanted to engage Annie in conversation mostly to keep her from hearing them.

The voices shut up when Thor came around as the tables were being cleared between courses- Fourth and fifth? Tony had lost track, and had long since quit doing anything but push food around on his plate, feeling guilty about the waste but with no desire to end the night by puking- to see how his friends were doing. Annie and her housemates apparently took Thor's actions as permission to leave the table for a minute as well, and they scooted off to talk to Loki and his mother.

Annie's chair being thus unoccupied, Thor sat in it.

"It seemed polite to ensure my guests are enjoying themselves," he explained. "I hope you are."

Natasha, across the table, had stopped eating at least forty-five minutes ago, but she smiled quite genuinely. "It's been a fascinating evening."

"How's your brother enjoying himself?" Tony heard himself ask.

Thor grimaced. "I wager he is not. Except, of course, that he has the almost undivided attention of our mother, which is always pleasant. I believe he is regaling her with tales of two miscreants named 'Patrick' and 'Trevor.' Truly, they seem to be terrifying brigands." Thor looked so amused that Tony knew he was missing something.

"Everyone's awfully glad to have you home, aren't they?" Tony could not stop himself from pointing out.

Thor raised his eyebrows. "You are not as subtle as you seem to believe, Tony Stark. Yes, my return is welcome to the people of Asgard. And my brother's is… far less so. We might, if we wished, argue where the blame for that lies, but it is perhaps best to simply agree that Loki cannot help being as he is, and no more can Asgard." Tony must have looked puzzled, because Thor leaned toward him and performed what felt like a conversational 180: "I am the favoured prince, and I always have been. The fact is, I am very easy for Asgard to love."

"Are you, now?" Tony said, amused. Thor always talked as though he had been an entitled, arrogant brat before his exile to Earth, and if that was true then he had definitely put some work into correcting those character flaws, because compared to, say, Tony, the God of Thunder was now also the picture of Quaker modesty. But it looked as if two days back in Asgard was enough to dump him back into his old ways.

Thor smiled. "You mock me. I did not say that I am easy to love in general. Merely that Asgard finds it very easy." When Tony looked blank, Thor explained kindly, "You must understand: my virtues are the sort on which Asgard places most value, and my flaws are the kind they find easiest to forgive. I was shaped by nature into exactly what Asgard most wishes to be, I offer them no challenge, and so they love me.

"My brother, on the other hand… His gifts, as well as his failings, are of a sort our realm finds it difficult to understand or accept. He should not have to change himself, but Asgard will not change either, and therefore it really is best for him to live elsewhere the majority of the time.

"However." Thor looked at Tony, and across the table at Natasha, as if he was deciding whether to share a delightful secret with them. Tony wasn't surprised when he apparently decided to do so, since Thor wasn't the reticent type. "I confess, reflection has never truly been my forte. But of late it has occurred to me… When my brother and I were children, we believed our father embodied everything Asgard was. We feared and loved him, believed him unyielding, and both of us assumed I was his favourite, as I was of the rest of the court.

"But I think now of the allowances that have been made, the efforts to repair what has been broken, the gestures toward meeting Loki on ground he understands- " Thor turned his head and glanced to where his brother sat with their mother, her hand on his forearm, both of them listening to something George was saying. Thor smiled to himself and then went on, "I think of all that, and I ask myself, who indeed was our father's favourite all along?" The smile widened, and Thor remarked, "I believe I will mention that to him, sometime. My brother is extremely intelligent but I very much doubt he will think of that for himself." At the head table, Odin gestured, and Thor got to his feet. "Time for the tales of valour to be told. Remember, if you are called upon, modesty is not a virtue in Asgard."

Thor made his way back to his place at the head table, and Tony glanced at Natasha.

"Thing is, he's not quite right. He actually is kind of easy to love in general."

~oOo~

Loki watched Annie, George and Mitchell hurry back to their seats, glanced sideways at his mother, and was pleased to see her looking after them with an expression of affection. His eyes then slid past his mother, to his father and to then Thor, who was once again taking his place beside Father.

Loki checked, more out of curiosity than anything, but the old savage curl of jealousy did not materialize. Thor was the crown prince, and deserved to be, and was also one of the great heroes of Midgard currently being celebrated. Therefore, his place was at Father's right hand, and Loki was placed for symmetry at Mother's left. It was, he reflected, regrettable that the notion of symmetry had not occurred to him several centuries ago, but in the days when he believed there was a competition to be heir he would not have found it comforting anyway. He had not wanted to actually be king, but he had wanted very badly to be chosen, believing that would fill the aching emptiness in his heart.

Now that the emptiness had been filled it was quite pleasant to sit beside Mother, especially now she seemed to want to talk to him. Previously, Loki reflected, she had probably been put off by his glowering silence, which had made him feel ignored, which naturally made his glowering worse. Humans would probably have better sense than to let things get to such a state, which was one of the advantages of knowing you had less than a hundred years to live and little time to waste. Too much time had indeed been wasted, but it was not too late. Loki put his hand over his mother's and squeezed it affectionately, enjoying the little glow of warmth that resulted when her hand turned under his and she squeezed back.

It was now time for the company to boast of their feats of arms, which had always been the part of these feasts that bored Loki the most. It was not, of course, that he was humble and considered such displays unseemly, merely that magic (or indeed proficiency with throwing daggers) did not count as feats of arms and therefore his exploits had never much interested the court. It was not that Loki objected to bragging, but it had seemed only fair that if he had to listen to everyone else, then everyone else should also have to listen to him.

That, too, had changed. He had in the past longed for the same recognition, the same affection, the court gave Thor and his friends. Now he knew that to be impossible: whether it had always been so or whether he had done it to himself with his own actions, Loki was quite sure the coldness of the court was not his imagination. If he could be certain his rampage was directly responsible for the distaste, Loki would have been sorry, but the plain fact was that he had always believed it existed anyway, and he was now rather more selective about the approval he sought. It would be the height of folly to continue to eat his heart out for the affection of people he himself disliked.

So: Loki had no interest in telling any stories of his own, but now that it would be friends of his who were speaking, he was eager to hear them. Surely Tony Stark would rise to the occasion with an epic worthy of any Asgardian braggart, none of whom were likely to notice he was spoofing them. And no one with any sense of humour at all could fail to be pleased by the prospect of watching Steve Rogers attempt to overcome the handicap of his own innate humility, although if he became genuinely embarrassed surely someone- Thor- would intervene and tell the story for him. Perhaps, too, Annie would be able to tell about her daring foray into the lair of the Red Skull, although there being no bloodshed involved it might not be as well received as it ought.

But before anyone else spoke, the Allfather would have a word. Loki, still unconsciously holding his mother's hand, turned in his chair as the Allfather rose and silence fell. The rogue thought crossed his mind that his father resembled a heavily-armoured Dumbledore, preparing to address the students of Hogwarts at the arrival feast, and he found it necessary to bite the side of his tongue to keep from giggling.

And then Odin began to speak, and the urge to giggle went away of its own accord as he listened to his father repeat his words of welcome to the Midgardians, and then continue,

"This is indeed a joyful occasion for my queen and myself, as we celebrate not only our elder son's accomplishments in forging this renewed alliance with Midgard and its mightiest heroes- " Thor looked pleased and surprisingly rather sheepish at being singled out, which Loki found touching. And then he forgot Thor completely as Odin went on, "- but also the return to Asgard of our younger son, whose full pardon has been earned though his own efforts, by repairing the harm he committed."

Nobody hissed, which was almost surprising, although one would have to be sly indeed to avoid the Allfather's eye. Frigga's hand tightened on Loki's and he realized the wording was deliberate: his pardon was earned rather than bestowed, and thus really his, and so no one could take it away from him. Loki found himself biting the inside of his lip and blinking rapidly.

"Will he return to live among us, Allfather?" Tyr asked suddenly. There was no malice in the general's tone, and Loki found himself wondering whether Tyr had been primed to ask the question everyone would be wondering.

"That," Odin replied, "will be up to Loki. He is a free citizen of Asgard, and such decisions are his to make."

Loki glanced at his mother, in the same line of vision as his father. She smiled, covered their linked hands with her other, and for once he had absolutely no doubt of what he was being given her blessing to do. His voice was steady as he said,

"My home is no longer here, but I would be grateful for permission to return and visit those I love."

"Not permission," Odin replied calmly, "but the right. And always, of course, our welcome." The king smiled, and Loki felt warmth flowing through his entire body, reaching to the tips of his fingers and toes, and a sensation of relief unlike anything he had ever imagined. He smiled back, glanced past Father to see the grin on Thor's face. And then all the Midgardian superheroes burst into loud and obnoxious cheering, completely ignoring the tepid response from all the Asgardians who were not Tyr, Sif, or the Warriors Three, and they refused to stop until Loki stood and waved to them.

After that, Loki was quite content to listen to the stories of his friends' exploits, which did not disappoint. They were unable to completely shake off the Midgardian custom of self-deprecation, but that trait, and the fact they were still surprised and thrilled to be alive, made for hilariously lively tales that thoroughly enchanted their audience. They also retained the Midgardian habit of talking over one another and shared storytelling, so that Mr. Fantastic and the Thing supported Steve's account of the assault on the Red Skull's aircraft, and then took over to describe the battle with the Dire Wraith, ceding the floor to Rhodey to tell of the aircraft's capture and then resuming the narrative at the point at which the Thing fell thrall to the Dire Wraith and had to be restrained by Tony.

Steve's battle with the Red Skull naturally took pride of place. He resolved the tension between his modesty and the need to tell a good story in the most Steve way imaginable, by making Helblindi the hero of the story and telling it so well his listeners seemed to completely forget they were cheering for a Jotun.

The storytelling was drawing to its conclusion, and Loki was thinking with longing of his bed- not, alas, the bed actually waiting for him here, his own actual bed back in Bristol, but tired enough that anywhere would do- when Thor spoke up:

"Brother, you have not yet told us how you defeated the monster."

Bother Thor. Loki had already told him he had no intention of speaking at this gathering- his single utterance was already more than he had wished to say before the court. Let Thor come to Bristol if he wanted to hear about it. They could order an Indian takeaway and sit on the floor, and all of them could trade stories. As many Avengers as felt inclined to join him could be squeezed in as well.

Loki glared, but Thor looked placidly back at him as though he had no idea his brother was annoyed.

"Tell us," he prompted. And then, treacherously, he added, "There were warriors enough who would have been willing to aid you, including myself. Why did you insist on fighting it alone?"

You already know the answer, brother, Loki thought, redoubling the ferocity of his glare, only to have it bounce harmlessly off Thor's pose of innocence. It was evident Thor did not mind making both of them conspicuous. Loki was considering the possibility of placing a very small curse on his brother, nothing harmful, just minor matter of his tongue becoming temporarily useless, when Odin spoke.

"I confess, I would also like to hear the story from your own lips. Particularly since it seemed for a time that it would never be possible to do so."

Loki winced, felt guilty, and gave in.

"The creature, the Deathwing, was a formidable beast in itself, but it had been enchanted," Loki began, speaking rapidly.

"What manner of enchantment?" Thor demanded. Loki resisted the urge to stick out his tongue.

"The Dire Wraiths had cursed it so that it could only be killed by magic, and so that its death would rebound upon its slayer. There was, therefore, no purpose in any of our warriors attacking it by conventional means: the creature would have killed them, and they had no hope of killing it."

"Thor could have slain it!" shouted a voice from somewhere in the back of the room. Drunk, doubtless, and in need of cleaning out his ears. There were cheers from the voice's vicinity.

"Yes," Loki replied, enunciating every syllable, "Mjolnir being magical, Thor could have slain it. And its death would have rebounded upon its slayer. Which in very simple terms means that if Thor killed the creature, the curse would have then killed him. That was the nature of the enchantment." Really, he needed to get out of Asgard, and quickly, before whatever was left of his disposition was utterly ruined. With an effort, he forced his eyebrows down to the same level and tried to smooth his face and his tone.

The hall went quiet as even the stupidest person present considered the possibilities.

"How did you know of this curse, brother?" Thor asked, and he no longer sounded playful.

"A captured Dire Wraith, who later escaped, told me of it. Taunted me about it, in fact. The curse was meant to follow an extremely nasty Midgardian story- "

"The story of the death of Thor," Nick Fury spoke up, and looked back impassively when every face turned toward him. "It's one of the legends told by the old Norse, when they had all winter to pass, and did it by making up stories. In that story, Thor was supposed to fight a great snake and then die of its venom. This was a simplified version, with a curse on the Deathwing to make sure of the result."

Loki shrugged. "In the presence of a curse, the obvious person to fight the creature was a sorcerer, and I happened to be present. Also, to be perfectly frank, if Thor really had fallen victim to the curse, it would have been a victory for the loathsome Dire Wraiths. Quite apart from the fact I would miss him, I had no intention of letting the Wraiths win. The simplest way to avoid that was to defeat the Deathwing myself."

"Simplicity itself," Thor agreed, his voice soft and yet reaching the very back of the hall. "It explains why you stopped me when I came to assist you. It does not, however, quite explain why you commandeered Mjolnir."

Loki laughed briefly. "That, I confess, was what you might call a shot in the dark. I had no suitable weapon, my powers are considerably reduced on Midgard, and I was beginning to be afraid I would run myself dry before the task was complete. It occurred to me that the enchantment on Mjolnir might have been removed, in which case I might be able to use it myself."

"What enchantment was that?" Mitchell called out. Loki would have words with him later, because Mitchell certainly knew about the enchantment upon Mjolnir. Loki distinctly remembered telling about it, as part of the story of how Thor returned to life and strength after his encounter with the Destroyer. With Loki.

"When Thor was exiled, a spell was placed upon Mjolnir by the Allfather. Up until that point, Mjolnir was a mighty weapon, but all that was required to wield it was great strength. The enchantment was rather like the one upon the sword plucked from the stone by King Arthur." Glancing sideways, Loki could see confusion on most Asgardian faces. There was surely a book in the library that would relieve their curiosity. Let them go read. In the meantime, Loki abridged his account: "When Thor proved himself worthy, Mjolnir returned to him and with it his powers." Loki was conscious of speaking faster, forced himself to slow down now that he had gotten past the worst part. "And, since it was no longer needed, the enchantment was removed and so I was able to call Mjolnir myself." He shrugged again. "I lack great strength, obviously, but I still had enough magic left to make up the difference. As the mortals say, desperate times call for desperate measures."

That really should have been the end of it, the worst story ever told in the history of Asgardian story-telling, and he not even drunk enough to have an excuse. But Thor was not ready to let him alone.

"The enchantment. Was it inscribed upon Mjolnir, in runes?"

Loki drummed his fingers upon the table. "I believe so."

"Runes that say- " and here Thor exceeded himself, because he actually picked up Mjolnir, laid it on the table before him, and made pretense of reading: "Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, will possess the power of Thor." He looked up, blue gaze guileless. Loki stared back, unsure what response was expected of him.

"Something like that, I believe," Loki replied tightly.

"These runes, in fact?" Thor asked, holding up Mjolnir so those sitting nearby could see there was, indeed, something inscribed on the face of the hammer.

Someone, in the silence, said, "Oooh." It was almost certainly Tony Stark.

Loki blinked, his hands going still upon the tabletop. He had not, of course, looked at the bloody hammer. He had been rather distracted at the time, and the weapon had so quickly become literally bloody that Some pig! could have been written upon it and he would not have noticed. But still- he did not understand Thor's purpose in cornering him like this, but… the runes were gone. They had been part of the spell, and so they must be gone, because the spell-

Thor was looking around the room. "Sinarr Holtison," he called out. "Would you attend on me for a moment?"

The warrior who approached the head table was as big as Volstagg, and had the reputation of maintaining his strength by lifting the carcasses of oxen. Thor gestured toward Mjolnir.

"Pass that to my brother. Please," he added, scrupulously remembering the courtesies of Midgard.

Holtison grasped Mjolnir by the handle and made to lift it. He straightened too quickly and let out an audible "oof!" when he was yanked back by the weight of the hammer. Undaunted, and certainly drunk, he spent a further few minutes wrestling with the weapon, to general amusement, before Thor thanked and then dismissed him.

And turned back to Loki.

"That enchantment, brother?" he asked innocently.

"It must have been replaced," Loki defended himself, "because it was not there when I- " He trailed foolishly off as Thor turned to their father, looking expectant.

"Nothing has been replaced," Odin said, "because nothing was removed."

"A weapon like this could not remain in Midgard with no wards upon it," Thor agreed. "The Man of Iron would use it as a nutcracker."

"That's not a bad idea," Tony Stark could just be heard to remark, for which Loki was grateful because it made at least a few eyes turn toward him.

Odin smiled. Not the fatherly smile, the fierce one that accompanied sometimes painful lessons, and Loki had no idea who it was aimed at.

Then he stood, picked up Mjolnir as though it weighed nothing, and leaned past Frigga to place it on the table in front of Loki.

"Pick it up," he invited. Loki looked at the hammer as though touching it would lead to immediate death, for himself or those he loved. Odin prompted him. "Loki."

There being no alternative, Loki pushed back his chair, rose to his feet, and gripped the leather-wrapped handle in both hands. Carefully, so as not to knock himself foolishly off-balance as Holtison had done, Loki lifted.

Mjolnir rose from the table and came level with his eyes, so quickly he was fortunate not to knock himself out like clown. He took a quick step backward to catch his balance, staring mesmerized at the runes on the weapon's face.

Then he carefully laid the great hammer back on the table and stepped carefully away from it.

There was complete silence in the hall for a moment. And then Thor rose, walked behind their parents to his brother's place, picked up Mjolnir.

And laid a hand on Loki's shoulder, leaning forward and saying quietly,

"There is a certain kind of talk we shall hear no more of, my brother."

And Thor walked in the silence back to his place, while Loki sank into his own.

~oOo~

The house having been empty for a fortnight, much of the food in the refrigerator had gone bad. Mitchell and George were throwing things away, amid noisy sounds of disgust, when Loki went upstairs. He opened the windows, leaning across the bed and then over the book case at its foot to get at the eaves. Then he sat on the bed and sighed with happiness as fresh air began to displace the stale smell of abandonment in his room.

After a moment, Loki rose and pulled the covers back, stripping the sheets from the mattress.

"You're not doing laundry the moment you get home?" Annie's amused voice came from the doorway. Loki looked sheepishly over his shoulder.

"It occurred to me that after six weeks, it might be pleasant to have fresh sheets," he explained. "I was going to ask Mitchell and George if they had anything they wished to have washed."

Annie folded her arms and leaned on the doorjamb. "Back to normal, then?"

"As quickly as I can manage," Loki admitted. "I am not supposed to return to work until Monday, which is… well, not tomorrow, but I thought I might pay a visit to the school in the morning. In case any customs have changed in my absence."

Annie tilted her head and smiled. "Sounds like a very wise idea."

A guilty thought crossed Loki's mind. "I suppose George and Mitchell are also in trouble with their employers. I did not think of that- "

Annie raised a hand. "No, stop right there. George just checked his messages and there was one from the hospital. Apparently he was spotted on a news report, helping Mr. Coulson fire rockets at Dire Wraith ships. They said of he and Mitchell really were out saving the world all this time, they can have their jobs back."

"This is not the low profile they wished to maintain," Loki said uneasily. "That may create trouble, may it not? With the other vampires?"

"Sure, if they want to take on the Avengers. And their magical consultant," Annie replied, and strolled into the room. "Welcome home."

Loki found himself dropping his armload of bedding on the floor. His arms were, for the moment, more pleasantly occupied.

END