(((This is for you, 'amidtheflowers', all for you. Thank you for the encouragement in messaging. Enjoy this and I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the othe fictions, too! Namaste')))

Epilogue: 8 Years Afterward . . .

Brenhin sat at the desk in his private quarters gazing over one of the volumes of Sylvanheim's history and presence, the very first book he had given to Darcy aside from the trickster's journal. He sighed, stroking one of the pages that had been inked in furious rage, shaking his head. He calmly recalled the days he had spent while Loki was in his first years of apprenticeship and Eldred had called on the servant to act as a scribe for him to give him details of the realm he had taken for himself. Being Alfskind at one time, Brenhin had a great deal of inner-knowledge as well as the gift of far and fore sight. He had etched prose and some of his people's poetry into volume after volume in the library in both the tongue of Asgard, Alfsheim, and Midgard. This one was in Midgard's tongue, Loki's favorite and the one Brenhin favored as well. He smiled at remembering the innocent little mortal that had uneasily and yet so eagerly taken the books from him being the queen of this realm, the wife of the God of Mischief, and the mother of two children now.

Gaea Ashilda Lewis was now a full 8 years old and close to being a match for her father save for her ability to bat her gorgeous, large, green eyes at those furious with her and charm them into being soothed. Nearly two years ago, Loki had welcomed his second child and his first son, Volgundral Thorin Lewis, along with Darcy. Darcy had created the first name herself with Loki's insistence that their first born be named after the one citizen of Asgard that had remained most loyal to him, then the second, then the third each in turn. Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral had wanted to spare Thor from Midgard, but only Sif seemed to bear ill-will towards Loki himself as king. Thorin was also Darcy's insistence given that his birthday fell on the 22nd day of September and her favorite name from the books of the author honored on Midgard that Day happened to be Thorin. Loki accepted it and presented the notion to his parents and brother, married happily to Jane though competing with her work for affection almost constantly, that the name was an homage to the two kings of Asgard, Thor and Odin.

Brenhin smirked at the notion of their family growing even larger with names all the more strange and children all the more lovely. Volstagg had been given the role of Godfather by Darcy and Drifa was awaiting her first apprentice in Gaea after she came of age. Brenhin, on the other hand, had been blessed with the role of surrogate grandfather and his closeness to Gaea seemed to warm the cold and fill the void that had so long grieved him with Marya's death and Loki's suffering. He glanced down at the passage in the book he had written himself in lyric form as well as in the form of a prophecy though only a few of the facts had been spoken as facts by wise women; the rest were simply rumors fueled by anxiousness of citizens, but printed by the anger of a scorned elf deprived of his natural gifts.

"Your offspring will in discord be, The cause of all your misery; Born of royal blood and bone, Reared against their native home. Their powers shall surpass your own, And take from you your might and throne," a familiar soft voice quoted from the corner of the room. Brenhin closed the book as a very small pale hand touched his shoulder and its owner completed the verse. "Then you shall rise and reign again, But one will not forgive your sin. Crownless, throne-less, love-less, he, Brings Ragnarok as destiny. Then when all battles fought are done, You will survive; bereft of life and love." Drifa's large, white eyes, gazed coolly over the servant turned consul turned family. She smiled as he stood and bowed to her. She nodded to him.

"Your Majesty," he said with a regal nod of his own. "How fairs the realm of Jotunheim?"

"Well and well it shall remain. I have found many princes and princesses which have been delegated power their own . . . including Farubati," she announced. Brenhin frowned a little at the name. Drifa made no change to her expression. "She wishes desperately to meet Loki. She feels he is a part of her though he was never hers and believes she has much to offer him and his family. She also made it clear that he is the rightful king and she would much prefer to kneel before him than before an Asgardian."

"Loki is an Asgardian," Brenhin said with amusement. "Ask him, he will say it proudly."

"I know," Drifa said, still unsettled that Loki was beyond her apprenticeship. She had wanted to teach him many things, but he had attached himself firmly to Darcy and there was little need to teach a creature so fulfilled anything further particularly when he would always have her forgiveness even for his machinations on Midgard. She glanced at the book still on the desk. "Your humors have changed drastically since last you wrote in one of those books, particularly that one."

Brenhin looked over his shoulder at it and sighed. "I was very angry with the All-Father," he admitted. "So was Tapio. What an unusual tragedy that brought them together, but at least Malekith has been properly dealt with after parading himself as Django for so long. Stranger still that it was Darcy that revealed it to Tapio and Odin. The Svartalfkind will leave well enough alone on Asgard and they dare not contend with the new sovereign of Midgard's creatures. Nuada has a thirst for blood that even Thor never knew when angered. At least the Bifrost has been reinforced repeatedly in the meantime and Loki is no longer irritated with being asked to ferry Asgardian champions just in case of certain failures."

"Some of the words were prophecies, whispered in the halls of Asgard's palace, some of them whispered in the secret places of Alfsheim," she observed. "Prophecies reach fruition regardless of choice."

Brenhin shook his head and picked up the book under one arm realizing that she was speaking of Loki's alleged ties to Ragnarok. "He is not crown-less, nor is he throne-less," he corrected. Drifa smiled. "And he has never been love-less."

"Nor will he ever be, and yet Ragnarok came to pass in a manner Odin did not expect . . . at the hands of his son, but not the trickster. Few Asgardians realize that the destruction first of the Bifrost was all there will be to Ragnarok, but there will always be those who wish to have their fables of Armageddon. And what father is not plagued by the deeds of his children both to misery and pride? How common those prophecies were, so vague and yet too great for Asgard to grasp entirely," she said. "And you are glad now that the last of it never reached fruition?"

"Of course," Brenhin said softly. He harbored no ill will toward Odin even with the unkindness that had never been made right entirely. The royal family of Asgard was as whole as they would ever be and their reunions were something to behold. Thor had yet to produce an heir and with the two new additions to Loki's family Odin's wrath and disappointment continued to seethe against his firstborn's wife who he had never truly given approval to. Brenhin chuckled at thinking how useless Loki's jealousy had been in the end with far more power, land, authority, offspring, and even acceptance than Thor would ever enjoy. "But enough about the past; to what do we owe the honor of your presence, Drifa?"

She smiled and took a step towards him seeming to grow an inch and glow brightly. "I bring a gift from Karnila, the Norn Queen," she said with a bright grin. Brenhin stared back at her in confusion. Drifa clasped her hands together tightly. "A bargain was struck with her that in exchange for a few thousand years that would've otherwise been spent alone . . ." she said, continuing to advance toward Brenhin. He watched her carefully as she reached him and took hold of his hand ever so gently. A chill and then a familiar warmth moved through him. He drew in a deep breath and suddenly felt strange yet whole. Drifa grinned. " . . . that your birthright, your true form be restored."

"He did such a thing; for me?" Brenhin asked, choking back a few tears. She smiled and nodded.

"Yes, and he does not regret it despite the fact that it will be collected from him, very soon," she said almost sadly. Brenhin's eyes widened in horror as he still thought that it had been Loki that had bargained for him. Drifa bowed her head and sighed. "But at least Thor is ready to reign in his stead." Brenhin was unable to stifle the gasp at those words. The All-Father had given up years of life to restore Brenhin's rightful blood, his natural powers to their peak? "He said that being robbed of Marya must have been more terrible than knowing that Loki was not your son when he should've been," Drifa explained.

"Generosity to that magnitude is rare in Asgard," Brenhin remarked. He heard a loud, boisterous cawing and turned towards the open window. He saw the figure of a large crow hurtling towards the open window, unsteady on its wings and seemingly laughing as it flew. Brenhin turned back to Drifa who held up both her hands, forming a mirror long enough for Brenhin to admire his form once again. It was pleasant to see; his ears and eyes had returned to their proper shapes and colours. He sighed deeply as she put her hands down and gave him a look that signaled a need to leave quickly. He bowed to her. "I thank you for the tidings, your majesty."

"He will recognize the change, I am sure, but do pass on to him the message that Farubauti wants the pleasure of a visit from him and his family," Drifa stated calmly before turning and dissipating into an odd, snow-white mist.

Before the mist dispersed entirely, an enormous crow flew in clumsily through the window, cackling as it collided with the wall. The cackling ceased and Loki slowly returned to his proper form, painfully sliding to the floor in a heap and groaning. Brenhin frowned and walked over to him, appraising him as he lay unmoving. He had been to Midgard once again without Darcy's knowledge or permission to alleviate the urge for some other form of 'fun'. Brenhin shook his head and just watched the young king lying uncomfortably in a mass on the area rug which gave little cushioning to an already painful 'landing'.

"You can transport yourself throughout any number of all the realms in existence, transform into fish and swim gracefully, transform into a horse and romp majestically," he observed as he looked the trickster over with a reproachful tone. "And you can fly with or without the need of wings and transformation into a bird. But come time to make contact with the land again, that one most important part of flying itself, the safe return to terra firma, and you can't do it,"

"I just did it, Brenhin, whatever are you going on about?" Loki asked groggily, grasping the side of his head. He suddenly burst into laughter, not trying to stand at the moment. "It was most amusing, Brenhin, you should've been there!"

"You, your highness, are intoxicated . . . again," Brenhin said with a tone of anger. "Darcy will not be happy."

"But I have the best stories to tell her,. I know her sense of humor, Brenhin, I've helped shape more of it over the few short years of our union. I transformed each and every inch of the streets of the island-city where that irritating cousin of hers still keeps his residence, into frozen cream . . . all of it!" he exclaimed with laughter. Brenhin groaned and finally reached down, helping the trickster stand as best he could. He quickly took the chair at the desk and placed it behind the sorcerer in tie for him to plop backwards onto it. "And the oceans, the oceans, Brenhin! I transformed every whale, dolphin, and walrus into a great sea serpent! The aquatic militia of every nation were sent out after panic from the fishermen. It was marvelous, the chaos! There was confusion and discord in every mass of sea-men!"

"Yes, you should re-word that for Darcy's sake," Brenhin muttered, holding back both disgust at the trickster's condition and his words, both of which he seemed to be oblivious to. Brenhin sighed as Loki turned and leaned over the desk, folding his arms and lying his head down on the desk itself. "I take it you are still fond of their spirits for the tie being?"

"Only when they strong and sweet," he replied. He smiled wistfully. "Just like my Darcy, my beautiful Darcy."

Brenhin shook his head and turned to leave the trickster to come back to his senses as he took the tome back to the library and informed Darcy that Loki had come home. The excursions he made usually only took a matter of hours, but it was always enough time for trouble-making. Darcy was patient and even pleased with some of the stories provided no one was harmed, by her definition, in the process. Loki sat upright quickly and turned, staring at Brenhin in confusion. "Brenhin?" he asked. The elf stopped and turned back to the youth, waiting patiently for the rest of the trickster's inquiry. "Did something happen to you . . . something strange? You seem different."

"How so, your highness?" Brenhin asked with a smirk.

"You look . . . happier, happier than you've ever seemed before," Loki replied.

Brenhin smiled brightly. "So do you, your highness," he replied. The moment didn't call for a grand display of emotion at the moment, not while the trickster was still not at himself fully. As Brenhin turned to leave the room yet again he was met face to face by Darcy. He sighed and nodded towards the room and in the trickster's direction. The moment Loki sensed her presence, he stood and centered himself. "I'll leave you two to discuss where you've been."

"Thank you, Brenhin," they replied in unison. Darcy stepped into the room and looked him over, shaking her head. "You know, you keep downing Jaggermeiseter and someday you're going to fly home to the wrong planet," she warned. He sighed and looked down shamefacedly.

"I shall refrain the next time," he offered as she moved and took his hands in her own. "I promise."

"I know you better than that so leave the promise out of it," she said with a heavy sigh. She stared up into his green eyes and smiled, still bashful and overwhelmed with his beauty and grace after their years together. "What happened this time?"

"I'll tell you this evening," he said leaning down and pulling her into a tight embrace. "First, I tend to what I come back for," he said softly. Darcy smiled and clutched him tightly. He pulled her to him all the more, breathing and drinking her in as if she were made entirely of ether. She might as well have been having clouded his head and yet somehow alleviating all the pain in the world in him since he had landed on his head in the desert. "I will always come back, for this."