Windstar: Thank you all very much for your continued support and reading. This is the final chapter of this story, and I hope you all enjoy it. I hope that as this is the final chapter those of you who have been lurking wouldn't mind letting me know your final thoughts on the story. I always look forwards to the reviews in order to help myself grow as a writer. Please let me know what you think. All the best - Windstar.

Chapter:

Thor didn't know the Tesseract was powerful enough to help him travel to Helheim, but he was grateful that he hadn't miscalculated when he saw the realm around him. It had been a success, and here he was in the glowing luminescence of his niece's world. He walked through the land, moving carefully through the paths of the dead and watching as the spirits of the old and the sick moved in peace.

He found Hela by a great body of silver water. The luminescent grass merged into the forest of the damned and the shining trees accented the scene. It would have been beautiful had the dead not been everywhere. Hela didn't seem to mind or notice the spirits that floated past her or the coming and goings of those in her care. She was standing by the water, watching one of the dead children she looked after swim in the lake. Her face was pleasant to look at, and Thor took a double take as he observed her.

Slowly, her eyes slid towards him. "You are far from home, Asgardian." Hela reserved the familiar term only for her father, it seemed. Thor didn't care though, his eyes were immediately drawn to the staff in her hands. It was truly a well-crafted weapon, whatever it was. It was long and noble looking – for all intents and purposes it could have been a scepter fit for a Queen.

"Hela, I would know what that staff is, and where the man who gave it to you went." He didn't need to look around him to know for certain that Loki was no longer here. He had left long before, and Thor's anxiety was only mounting. He looked at his niece long and hard, but she was not intimidated by him. She never had been. She had less of a reason to be afraid now. Thor knew that he could not conquer death, and that was what she represented. She was above him now, and he wanted no quarrel with her.

"This staff expands my powers, Thor." She had not called him 'uncle' since the day she had been sent from Asgard. He had not expected her to. She moved towards him slowly, and held it before her. He wondered if she intended to offer it to him, but she made no move to deliver it to his palm. Instead she rotated it so that it was vertical, and then she slammed the bottom end into the ground. The earth spat out wind around them, and Thor felt the thrum of energy.

All around him he could feel spirits and souls calling out – at first he thought it was crying and screams of pain, but instead he realized it was laughter and delight. It was the sound of long lost friends meeting again for the first time in a long while. It was strangely glorious. He looked at Hela in abject confusion. He did not understand what she was saying, or what the staff was doing.

When the wind died, though, he watched as Hela turned her head back towards the water. A pleasant smile crossed her features and the spirit she'd been watching early came towards her. It was splashing happily as it swam, and when it came to the shoreline, Thor got a better look at it. It, was more of a who, and he recognized the "who" immediately. Narfi. The boy was no longer the dead and rotting thing that had been haunting his brother, father, and Thor for so long. He wasn't a shade or a Vörðr, He was a child: whole and complete. Well kept black hair hung to his shoulders, bright blue eyes sparkled on his face; his skin was flushed pink and healthy. His clothing was well suited for a true Prince of Asgard, and he looked every bit the happy child that Thor had known and loved five years previously. Hela had watched over him like a dutiful sister, and now the boy was back at her side and well in her care. He should have been damp from his swim, but he was fully dry and just as darling as Thor remembered him.

Thor felt his knees grow weak, and he knelt before the boy. He reached out his hands and the child ran to him, calling his name and thanking him for playing. Tears started to form in Thor's eyes as he looked up at Hela. A true smile was on her face and she slowly lowered herself to be at his level. As a Queen, she needn't have had to crouch, but she did here. She placed a hand on her little brother's hair and happiness glowed from her features.

"This staff, Uncle," the term startled him, "calls all Vörðr and lost souls that cannot find their way to Valhalla, Folkvagner, or Helheim. It calls those that have died, but cannot find their way to eternal peace. It protects the dead, and enables them to come to where they will always be loved and guarded. That is the gift my father gave me. He gave me the power to truly tend to those in my care, and to not fear for those I cannot find." And it was a mighty gift. It had taken all of Loki's power and abilities. Thor remembered how in his dream, Loki had collapsed in a dead faint – almost certainly extending the last bit of energy he had in him in order to ensure the staff's continuing work. When he'd arrived in Alfheim, he'd still looked strained and weary, and that's where Thor knew his brother had gone now.

Narfi had left Thor when he had been about to enter Odin's throne room, and now he knew why – Hela had called him home. Taking a deep breath, Thor nodded his head. "Tell me Hela, what did you give your father in return for such a gift?" Hela then showed him the book of the dead, and the place where Loki Laufeyson had been crossed off.

"He has one chance, and that is all I promised him." Was all she said. Thor looked at the book for a long while, his eyes boring into the letters before him. All other names and dates were blurred, and all he could see was the one that Hela wanted him to see – so was her power. She would not allow anyone else to know anything she determined they couldn't read. It was only fair after all- knowledge of the exact day and time of one's death was not a good one.

Then, as he looked at the words, the scratch that had been torn through Loki's name vanished instantly. "Oh…" Hela was watching it as well, and Narfi squirmed in Thor's grip so he could see what was so interesting about the book.

"What does that mean?" Thor asked. Hela just smiled and the book vanished. She held a hand to Narfi, and the boy quickly hurried towards her.

"Good day Uncle, I can tell you no more." She started to walk away, and Thor let her go. Narfi turned back to look at him, and he smiled brightly. Waving his fingers towards Thor in an innocent goodbye, the god of thunder knew that the boy would be all right. He was finally whole, and at peace. Hela would care for him as she did all those who died and were under her protection: with love and respect. She may even care for him more, because she had loved this child before he had died.

Thor withdrew the Tesseract, and concentrated on Alfheim. The journey was a short one, and when he appeared upon the border of the lake of knowledge, he was met with the astonished gazes of the good elves he'd seen in that second dream so long ago. They had all been talking amongst each other, and now that Thor was here, they flocked to him.

"How was it possible? How did it happen? Truly a miracle! He must be blessed!" Thor blinked as they spoke all in unison and he tried to work out just what they were trying to tell him. He nodded his head awkwardly, but finally he saw the woman who had taken Loki out to the lake in the first place.

"My lady, my brother?" He questioned pleadingly and she urged him to come towards her. He did as she bid, and she pressed her palm to his. Instantly his mind filled of images.

He saw Loki falling backwards – disappearing into the water. A smile formed on his brother's lips as he was completely submerged. A true sight of happiness coursed through him, and then – his eyes widened and his heart stopped. His spirit tore from his body, and he was dead. It had been as they had always known – breaking the spell would leave Loki dead. The spell would be over, but he would never live to enjoy it.

In this vision world the elf maiden had trapped Thor in, he watched as Sleipnir appeared from the shoreline. He was rearing and bucking angrily. He was filled with great sadness as he watched his father's dead body slowly begin to rise to the surface of the lake. "I am sorry, son of Loki, for your loss." The elf maiden spoke to the horse. She carefully assisted the body towards the shore and the horse pressed his nose against Loki's chest.

Light burst from everywhere, and the elves shielded their eyes in surprise. Thor too, as he watched the scene from their memories, was stunned by the glory of this light. He winced, as it only grew brighter. It sparkled and shone, and yet soon enough it faded. It faded, and Loki lay there – eyes wide and chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

He lay there for quite some time, and everyone could only stare at him in dumb shock. Then, suddenly, he burst out laughing. He started laughing so hard that he was in hysterics, tears were pouring from his eyes and his smile only grew wider and wider. He threw his arms around Sleipnir's neck and hugged the horse that was whinnying and yipping excitedly.

Thor felt his own heart hammer in his chest as he witnessed this scene. Loki…was happy, and not faking happiness or hiding sadness, he was truly happy. The expression on his brother's face was one that he had not seen for centuries. It was one of unbridled joy and excitement.

Loki spun on his heels and kissed the elf maiden on the cheeks, thanking her for everything. He delivered to her two great books from the saddlebags on Sleipnir's back. Both books were filled with ancient lore pertaining to the elves. It was a gift, and one that would be treasured.

Then, he mounted Sleipnir, and his mouth turned wicked once more. "Come, son, we're going to have fun you and I. I feel the urge for mischief, and I know just who shall be harmed." The great horse whinnied once more, and then took off running – teleporting through speed alone and vanishing out of sight.

Thor was pulled from the vision and he met the elf maiden's eyes. "Your brother has done us a great service, these books were once lost to our people. We wish him well on his journey, and hope that he enjoys this second chance." Thor nodded his head.

"If he only lives to tell about it."

Taking hold of the tesseract once more, he prayed that this journey was possible, and he focused his thoughts on Muspelheim. For some reason, an old Midgardian saying wound itself in his mind, and he couldn't help himself but saying aloud: it seems all roads lead to Muspelheim. Then he was off – and he vanished from Alfheim in the blink of an eye.

The fire of Muspelheim raged around Loki, but he did not fear this place. He had cast a very strong protective barrier around him, and he knew just as well that two could play at this game. Every step he took sent ice into the ground beneath him, and froze it for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. He was purposefully keeping the ice alive – and the trail was large enough for any self-respecting fire-giant to trace.

He was not surprised in the slightest when a relatively angry welcome met him at the front gate of Surtr's palace. He didn't care, though. He smiled winningly at the guards that were around the palace walls – and then promptly sent a wave of furious power straight at them.

Giants went flying, the gates crushed under the power of his rage. Loki marched through the castle with no trouble – anyone who attempted to stop him was immediately repelled with power that was unparalleled. He'd been working on this plan longer than any other, and now that it was here before him – he could taste the victory that was at hand.

The doors to Surtr's throne room were smashed open with a twist of his hand, and Loki stood before the master of this realm with his head held high and a leering smile on his face. The King stood, walking down his steps and approaching the much smaller nobleman before him.

"Well, well, well…if it isn't the frost-giant in godly clothing." Surtr smiled at him, smoke billowed from his mouth as his large hands settled on his even wider hips. Loki kept grinning up at him, confidence rolling off of him in waves.

"I have a proposition for you, Surtr. One that I would strongly urge you to consider." The King laughed, fire and smoke dancing around his lips and sliding over his shoulders.

"You cannot honestly believe you have anything to bargain with, son of Laufey?" Loki didn't so much as flinch at the title, he just dipped his head.

"I do. I will give you what you want most in this world, if you will give me what I want most."

"And what would that be, little prince?" Loki raised his hand, and a silver wisp of magic joined with blue beams of light, all circling his palm and joining together until a swirling mist of color and power was there to behold.

"This is a gateway, one that I control and warp to suit my needs. What I'm offering, Surtr, is Asgard itself. I will bring your army there, and you may lay siege to it – as you've always wanted. You will no longer be held captive in this realm." Surtr grinned toothily.

"And in return?" He asked lightly.

"My happiness, back, without the unfortunate side effect of killing me the moment I achieve it." Surtr's laughter echoed through the entire realm – knocking against granite and fire, and cascading around the burning sands of volcanic ash.

"Over eight hundred years have passed without it, why wish it now?"

"Asgard, for what you took from me as a child. That is your offer." Loki stated firmly, refusing to answer the giant or deliberate any further with him. The giant laughed louder this time, before slowly crouching so he was able to look the god in the eye.

"Your offer…is denied." Shock crossed Loki's features, and suddenly from the ground around him – giants sprang up. The earth shifted away as the entire hall was filled with them. They burst from the shadows, forming themselves before his eyes and as he reached for his power to blast them all back – Surtr reached for his and sent a raging beam of fire down at the god's startled body. Surtr's gift tore through the Prince's shields and barricades, and the god hit the ground in pain.

"You wish to be trapped here for all time? To never again be able to conquer other realms? I'm giving you your freedom!" Loki hissed as he struggled against the heat. He felt his brow begin to dampen badly, his skin starting to flake – he hated this heat.

"No, boy, I wish to be free. But my freedom will not come from a treacherous snake like you. You, who murdered your own kin in order to keep the charade of your heritage going? You, who betrayed Laufey with the same promise you spin to me? I would never trust you to honor this arrangement. You are cursed to be a miserable wretch for all times and nothing you have to offer will change that. I have not the patience or tolerance for one such as you." Surtr flicked his hand and the very ground beneath Loki burst into flames.

The god bit back a scream, but soon it didn't matter. His mind shifted and fell – loosing its processing as he was scorched from all sides. "You deserve all of this and more frost giant. You dare march into my realm and command me? Die! You arrogant creature!" Surtr was glowering angrily at him, and Loki finally managed to look up passed the flames to meet his eyes.

"You will regret this day." He said softly, but Surtr just laughed.

"I have nothing to regret. You, exiled little creature that you are, have no one to avenge you. Laufey did not deserve the punishment you bestowed upon him, and now…you will die." Fire burst through him, and Loki shouted in pain once more, his skin tore off. His eyes burst from heat, his blood hardened in his vessels and exploded out of their veins.

When his death came, it came with pain and fire and torment. When the fire stopped, all that was left of him was a scorched corpse that was smoking from every orifice. Surtr's laughter coursed through Muspelheim and the sons of Muspel joined in.

Loki was dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Only, Loki couldn't be dead, Thor reasoned as he watched this scene from the relative safety of the sky above. Loki had no need to bargain for his happiness, for he had already achieved it. Loki had told him before that he knew that Surtr wasn't foolish enough to fall for the same trick Laufey had. Loki would never have done something so bluntly…and where was Sleipnir?

The answer came soon enough, when Thor watched the scene below him unfold. While Surtr had been busy with the very corporeal image of Loki, all of the god's sorcerers had been slaughtered. They had been in deep meditation, an event that they only practiced once a year. The meditation had been there for them to focus and to channel their powers. Later, Thor would discover a chapter on Surtr's magic-men in one of the books that Loki had been dedicating himself to. For now, he simply believed that Loki must have known what he was doing…and that his brother was never inaccurate in anything he did.

Surtr didn't have the magical ability to place a curse as strong as the one that was placed on Loki, but his sorcerers did. They were the ones that had ruined the young Prince's life so many centuries before, and now his revenge had been sated. Thor knew that Loki was never finished in anything he had done.

All of the fire-giant's texts, all of his work, all of his information on Asgard and the nine realms – all of them had vanished without a trace. No one knew where they were, and no one knew who could have taken them. Surtr angrily pronounced that there had been spells ensuring that those volumes could not possibly leave the realm.

Yet they were gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. In a fit of pure rage, he set fire to his home, burning it and all its inhabitants with fire that was beyond what a regular fire giant could withstand. Everything was destroyed, and there was nothing left of it all. Surtr had been trying to find a way out of Muspelheim for years – always eager to take on Asgard and her people. Now, with all of his information gone and his sorcerer's dead, he had nothing to hold on to. His final chance at escaping this realm was taken from him.

Thor couldn't help but smile as he looked at the sight below him. Loki wouldn't be here any longer, and Thor knew he couldn't linger. He had no desire to be caught in Muspelheim after the mess that Loki had created. Using the tesseract, Thor travelled to Vaniheim. It was the only other place he could think of that Loki might have travelled to, here at the end of all things.

Thor stepped foot onto the grassy meadows of Vaniheim, and he walked casually towards Sigyn's home. His eyes were drawn immediately towards the large eight-legged horse that was grazing innocently not far away. The horse looked over towards him boredly, and Thor waved slightly. Sleipnir returned to grazing without so much as a flick of the tail, and the god of thunder rolled his eyes at the display.

He knocked politely on the door of the home, but no one answered. Feeling like a pattern had developed somewhere, Thor opened the door, and stepped across the threshold at the same time that a powerful flash of light coursed through the room.

He rubbed at his eyes, but they focused quickly enough. When he could see clearly, he saw his brother standing before him, his true staff, and not the one that he had given to Hela, was in his hand and he looked truly happy. He was smiling brightly up at him, and Thor couldn't help but grin back.

"Tell me, were the visions from you as well?" Thor asked evenly, approaching his brother casually. Loki nodded his head.

"Just now, I sent the glimpses of the past to you. The cycle is complete." Thor grimaced as he recalled the light he'd just observed.

"Why send them at all?"

"I appreciated your attempts over the years to be my friend, to make up for what you had done, but I wished to do something to show you what you could have caused. The half visions and truths that only showed you partially what occurred and always the worst of it, was simply a trick…a bit of fun." Thor nodded good-naturedly.

"Let me surmise what I have seen, little brother." Loki waved his hand for Thor to continue, the smile never left his face – the light never left his eyes. "You purposefully waited until the right time where Sigyn's family was not here, and then you transformed Vali back to his natural form. You used your son's body as a way to convince me to let you go to Vaniheim legally, then you manipulated your wife into giving you a boon that you promptly gave the dwarves so they would make you a staff that you could bewitch and give to Hela, and then she struck your name off the book of the dead so that when you died you would not be taken to the lands of the dead, and when you were resurrected – something I still don't quite understand – you enacted your revenge on Surtr and those under him, all without being caught or having anyone guess your true motivations?" Loki grinned.

"I always have been the more clever than you, brother." Thor laughed with delight and wrapped his arms around Loki, who hugged him in turn. "I did tell you when I decided to go achieve my happiness it would be beyond your intelligence."

"That you did, little brother. Now, tell me, how did you return to your body?"

"Sleipnir. Surely you saw me draw that symbol on his nose at the stable?"

"I did, I took no mind of it." He hadn't, to him – Loki was simply petting the friendly beast.

"It was a seal that connected to a similar seal I'd drawn on myself. When the two marks touch, it creates a beacon. It's original purpose is to summon a soul of my choosing, and in this case – I chose my own soul to be contained back in my own body. I had been dead, and officially dead by then – for well over twenty minutes. The curse had been destroyed, and there were no specifications for...well…reanimation I suppose would be the best term for it. During the twenty minutes that I was dead, I travelled to Helheim where I waited for Sleipnir to summon me. For a time, my soul had been somewhat officially a resident in a land of the dead – binding the contract completely. But Helheim could not accept me because I was not in the book of the dead. And so while I could stay there temporarily, I was still only visiting. Hela had given Garm, the warden of Helheim, the strictest command to allow me to pass – despite it not normally being allowed. I entered, and when Sleipnir summoned me – I was able to return to my body: alive, and happy. The spell was much the same as the one on the staff I gave to Hela, only it summoned me specifically."

"And now?" Thor asked him. The door to the room opened, and Loki turned and looked at his wife as she entered. Vali was just behind her. He was awake now, and looking meek and shy behind his mother. Both, though, only seemed to have eyes for Loki.

"Now, I return to Asgard and live out the rest of my days in 'captivity,' never to leave the realm again. Only this time my family shall come with me, and I shall be happy to have them." Sigyn's lips burst in a great smile, and she moved to hold her husband, and Vali quietly approached, curious to know what was happening and why. There was quite a bit of explaining that needed to be done as far as he was concerned. It would take a long while, but Loki was clearly prepared for that task.

"But how did you remove those books from Muspelheim?" Thor asked in curiosity. At that, Loki truly did start to laugh wholeheartedly.

"They were never taken. Those spells were secure, and the books remained. Only they could not be seen or touched, I transfigured them into illusions that would only break under extreme heat." Thor could only blink at that, and as he recalled how Surtr had angrily burnt down his home –the angry King had destroyed the very books he'd been looking for.

Thor couldn't help it, he laughed, and laughed and laughed.

It was messy, and complicated, and so much could have gone wrong, but once Loki had known the cause of his misery and his malcontent – nothing had been able to stop him and his pursuit of happiness. All it took was some cunning, manipulation, and a bit of mischief.