For the first section, listen to Thor 1 soundtrack "Can You See Jane?" then Young Victoria soundtrack "Marriage Proposal," then Jurassic Park "Theme." (It's a bit long for the section, but who cares? It's a great song. Use the one specifically entitled Jurassic Park: Theme John Williams—Great Composers. The piano version is not robust enough for what I want. Trust me.)

Second section: Frozen soundtrack "Heimr Arnadair."

Third Section: Theme from "Apollo 13."

Final Section: Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe soundtrack "Lucy Meets Mr. Tumnus," then How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack "Romantic Flight"

…and finish with Gladiator soundtrack "Now We Are Free."

VVVVV

My friends, I will answer every single signed-in review for this chapter, so that I can personally thank you for your wonderful patience, your encouragement, and your friendship. This last chapter is the best I can manage, and it is a gift to you. I know we shall have many more adventures together!

Thank you.

You hold my heart.

VVVVV

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"So cut through the heart, cold and clear
Strike for love and strike for fear
See the beauty, sharp and sheer
Split the ice apart

And break the frozen heart."

-Frozen

Jane's loud footsteps slowed. She stopped in the shadow of one of the pillars in the great hall, her heart pounding, her breath unsteady. She clutched the stone in her right hand, up against her chest. She stared into the vast, empty chamber, lit only with torches that hung from the alabaster walls. At the far end, he lay, framed against the glittering spread of the city of Asgard, the glowing ribbon of the Asbru bridge, and the sadly twinkling stars.

At each corner of the bier stood a lamp on a black iron stand. They cast rich, dark golden light across his marble-still form, and the brilliant flowers that surrounded his body. The gentle flames glimmered against his armor and his hair, and softened the pallor of his skin.

Biting her lip, Jane started forward.

Her feet echoed against the marble, and her skirts rustled all around her. In no time, she'd reached the foot of the bier.

She paused a moment, gazing up and across him, the stone still grasped tightly, her attention drifting across the angle of his shoulders, his peaceful features, and the way his graceful hands lay one on top of the other—and the bouquet Thor had placed beneath them.

Then, she slowly came around to his right side, the cool night breeze touching her face as it wafted in from the balcony. If she could just…

She came up short, suddenly frowning. His whole body, except his head, was encased in a shell of armor. Armor that she had no idea how to remove.

"How…" she gasped, her voice shaking as she searched for a buckle or a tie or anything. "How am I going to…?"

She reached out and touched his upper arm with her left hand. Her fingertips met the hard, smooth surface—it shocked her. The metal felt like ice. Frustrated tears sprang to her eyes and she gripped his arm. It was like squeezing iron.

"But…I can't…I can't if there isn't…" she realized, her eyes darting up to search the reaches of the room. Maybe a passing guard could help her—

No one was there. Her hand fluttered over Loki's shoulder, exploring the side of the breastplate—but there was no chink. No buckle. No way to get it off.

It had to be magic.

She stopped. She stared up at his face, a terrible ache flooding through her.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no. You have to…You have to let me in." She pressed her hand down on the center of the freezing breastplate, ignoring how the cold hurt her skin. "Come on!" she cried at the stubborn metal. "Come on, I'm trying to…I'm not going to hurt him."

Nothing.

She squeezed her hand into a fist—and her face twisted.

"Please…" she begged, leaning closer, her reflection refracted in the mirrors of his armor. "It's me. It's me. Please let me in."

A tear trailed down her face, dripped from her chin—fell, and struck the breastplate.

Singing ringing filled the air—like the jingling of water over stones, like a breath of wind through a chime, like an opening door, like children running through a marble hall…

The breastplate split and retracted. The scales rippled and vanished. The plates on his arms swept away—those on his legs rattled and disappeared...

His arms and the flowers slipped off to fall to his sides. The dagger that had been buckled to the outer belt clacked onto the bier. Leaving Loki there in a long black riding coat of the finest, softest leather, edged in silver. Silver also flashed at the wrists of his bracers, at the high collar of his tunic, and across his chest in a wide, straight band that began at his right shoulder and ended at his hip—and this silver had been carved with intricate knotted designs. His silver belt—delicate-but-strong—crossed his middle above his fitted trousers and boots.

Jane's mouth fell open, and for a long moment she just stood there, stunned.

Then, her brain kicked in.

She transferred the stone to her left hand, then reached up and quickly undid the ties at the front of Loki's tunic. She unfastened them all the way down to his belly, then pushed the sides of the shirt out of the way. The spider-like black veins around his neck stood out against the white—as did the cleaned, neatly-stitched wound right anext his heart.

Breathing rapidly, Jane picked up the dagger, and slid it out of its sheath with a shink. The blade flashed.

She set her jaw, then leaned even closer, resting her left forearm across his chest. She then placed the tip of the dagger against the bottom stitch.

Very carefully, she clipped each stitch, re-opening the bloodless wound, until she reached the top of it. Shivering, she set the knife down, and pressed the icy cut further open with her fingers. Then, she straightened, her whole body trembling, and stared at it.

"Well…" she tried helplessly…and that was all she could muster. She glanced down, took the pulsing, colorful stone out of her left hand, reached out, and pushed it down inside the wound as deeply as she could.

She gulped, using both hands to squeeze the wound shut again, and then she pressed down on it, holding her breath—though she had no idea what she was waiting for.

Nothing happened.

Nothing.

Silence filled the great hall, and pressed down on her shoulders. Her tight breathing shuddered. His icy skin against her hands sent shivers all through her body. She gazed, fixed, at his face.

Nothing.

"Gah," she gasped, more tears tumbling. She pushed down harder. "Stupid, Jane," she wept, ducking her head. "Stupid, stupid! What did you think would happen?" She reached up and swiped furiously at her eyes. "Now what, hm? What are you going to…What are you going to do?"

Her heart stopped.

She could hardly see his face through her tears—but the sight struck her to the core.

"What am I…" she breathed, a horrible thrill racing through her nerves. "What am I going to do?"

Silence deafened her.

Silence, and cold.

"No," she said—the word wrenched out of her. She clambered desperately up, and sat on the edge of the bier. She pressed her right hand even harder against his wound, bent over him, and her left hand—quivering—she brought up and feverishly stroked his soft, cold forehead and cheek. "No, please, please don't leave me here." She ran her fingers through the locks of hair by his brow, and shook her head hard. "Please," she said, tears dripping from her chin. "Please. You're right. You're right. I…I do love you."

Heat.

She twitched up.

Beneath her right hand.

Heat.

She lifted her palm.

Beneath the layers of his skin—a penetrating white light. Like a star.

And the next moment, the wound slowly sealed itself.

Jane jerked back, grabbing her collar.

And the light spread.

It swelled through his chest, outlining every single one of his ribs and his breastbone. Then, the light began to pulse, and with each pulse, his veins illuminated, spreading further out from his heart to his shoulders, his belly, up his throat, and into his head. Jane watched, captivated, as the veins in his hands started to glow, throbbing steadily. She could feel heat rising from his skin.

FLASH.

The white light flooded all his tissue, all his skin, and shot down through every strand of hair.

Every single torch in the room blazed to an eccentric height, and all the lamps that had not been lit burst to life, so that the chamber looked like it stood in daylight.

The light vanished from his veins, his skin, his chest, his hair.

The spidery black veins were gone. So was his wound.

Jane did not breathe. She did not move. Her eyes locked on his unmoving face.

She waited.

Nothing happened.

Then…

His chest lifted.

Just half an inch.

Sank back down.

Lifted again—deeper, higher.

Lowered.

Again—and she could hear it. Could hear the breath enter his nose and travel down to his lungs. She clapped a hand over her mouth.

Again, he breathed in—and he swallowed.

His right hand stirred by her hip. She yelped, and almost fell off the bier—but she caught herself, both her hands moving to encircle her throat.

His eyes moved beneath his lids.

And they opened.

He stared up at the ceiling for a long, still moment…

Then blinked, and frowned.

A gasp escaped Jane's control, and more tears ran down her cheeks.

His eyes widened.

Then…very slowly…he turned his head. And he saw her.

Their eyes locked.

Jane froze.

He took another breath, through his mouth.

And he gradually sat up.

The crown imperial petals tumbled from his hair. The other colorful blossoms trickled off his shoulders. He sat up, and now was just inches from her, gazing straight down into her eyes.

And his eyes—his eyes were bright, vivid, fathomless green…

She could feel warmth radiating from him—his closeness overpowered her.

He was real.

Real, and alive.

He lifted his left hand, his eyebrows drawing together in bright, earnest startlement, and set his soft fingers underneath her chin. His gaze swept across her features, as if he was unable to believe it.

"Jane," he suddenly said—quiet, in startled recognition. As if he'd said it a thousand times—yet never once. "Jane!"

She kissed him.

She closed the distance and pressed her lips fiercely to his, taking a deep, desperate breath of earth...And night wind…And smoldering oak…

But not a hint of frost.

Loki's hand slipped down to cradle her neck, his mouth softening to hers. Savoring the instant—the instant that stretched for eternity.

Finally, tenderly, his lips parted from hers, and he took her face in his hands. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, studying her expression, even as she tried to steady her breathing and get a hold of herself—but she couldn't look away from him. Loki tipped his head a little, and lifted his right eyebrow in subtle, affectionate teasing. His mouth formed a crooked smile, and his eyes twinkled.

"Did you miss me?"

Jane's brow twisted, she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded hard.

He caught her mouth with his again, instantly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, so deeply that she bent back beneath him. Clumsily, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him rapidly, six times, unable to get enough…

And he began kissing her back.

Electricity fired through her veins and her mind reeled.

How—how did he know? But he did—he knew exactly how to taste and press her mouth with his so that her mind exploded with white light and she lost her balance—like he knew her mouth, its corners and edges, by heart…

CRASH.

Their mouths broke apart, and both of their heads jerked around to see a guard standing at the far end of the hall, his sword and spear clattering all over the floor. He'd gone ash-white, and his mouth hung open. Loki raised his hand and waved at him, grinning.

"Danehall! How are you?"

Danehall jumped back as if a rat had just run across his boots. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. Then, he turned and dashed pell-mell out of the hall, his armor rattling like the Tin Man.

"Ahahaha!" Jane laughed, her voice watery, all her muscles still trembling with joy. Loki joined her laughter, drawing her closer—she fell against his chest and kept giggling, laying her face against his warm, bare skin, listening to his heart beat strong and steady against her ear…

"What is going on? Who is in here disturbing the prince's body? I'm going to—"

Fandral, blonde hair all messy, his shirt awry, his sword brandished, came racing into the feasting hall, shouting at the top of his lungs.

He saw them.

Skidded to a halt—flailed—almost fell backward.

"Wh…" he stammered, eyes wide. "Wh…"

Loki just grinned. Jane giggled harder.

High above them in a tower, a high-pitched bell began ringing frantically. Loki tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and smiled at the sound.

Thunderous footfalls. Jane lifted her head from Loki's chest to see red-bearded Volstaag, wearing only his trousers and hefting an axe, blunder in behind Fandral.

"What's wrong, what's wrong?" he bellowed. "Danehall said something about the…" He caught sight of Jane and Loki, and tripped.

He narrowly caught himself, then staggered up to stand next to Fandral, who still stared.

"What…What…" Volstaag tried, but got no further. Loki inclined his head, snugging Jane closer against him.

"Hello, Volstaag. Fandral," he said kindly.

The two mumbled something, and nodded, then returned to gaping.

CLANG.

The two men spun around…

Sif stood there in her long red nightgown, her black hair wild. She'd just dropped her sword. It clambered down the three steps and slid to a stop on the floor. Loki lifted his chin.

"Sif," he acknowledged gently.

"Loki!" she gasped, her shining eyes filling with tears. She wandered down the stairs, fixed on his face, and trailed to a stop next to Volstaag. "Is it…Is it you?"

Loki only smiled.

Sif's expression broke, and she covered her mouth.

"Has…Has he seen you?" she whispered.

"Seen who?" The lion-like voice rang through the chamber. "What is this? What is going on?"

Loki's arms stiffened around Jane—and then relaxed.

And Thor, his black robes flowing around him like a thunderhead, golden hair hanging to his shoulders, swept straight in behind Sif. His brow frowning, his eyes haunted, his jaw set. He halted at the top of the steps and cast across his nearby friends, confused. They glanced at him briefly—then returned their captured attention to the bier.

And then Thor looked up, too.

Stopped.

He stared at Loki. And Loki stared back.

Neither one moved for an age.

Thor blinked. His jaw tightened, and he swallowed.

Loki slowly let go of Jane—his arms slipped free of her. Watching the two carefully, Jane eased back, and got off the bier.

Thor did not stir. Except his hands closed into fists.

Loki slowly drew his right leg up and bent his knee, then shifted to face Thor. He swept his legs off the side of the bier, and flowers tumbled in their wake. Loki, never looking away from Thor, pushed off, and stood down upon the floor. The tails of his dark coat came free, the hem cascaded down to his ankles, and petals rained down over his boots and the steps in front of him.

Thor stayed just where he was, swallowing hard again.

Loki put his foot down one step, then the next, then the next. Drawing himself up, never looking anywhere but at his brother, he slowly crossed the floor, until he stopped in the very center. Everyone watched him. Nobody breathed.

Loki reached up, and hooked his fingers around the silver chain at his throat, and lifted the glimmering pendant. He raised his eyebrows.

"Thank you for fixing this," he said sincerely. "You know how rubbish I am at mending things."

Tears spilled down Thor's face. He stumbled down the stairs, staggered up to Loki, grabbed him by the upper arms, pressed his forehead into Loki's chest and sobbed.

And now Loki wept too, shutting his eyes and bowing his head. Thor, gasped, straightened, wrapped his arms around Loki's waist, Loki flung his arms around Thor's shoulders, and Thor hid his face in Loki's collar.

Fandral dropped his sword and sat down, shaking his head and grinning in wonder. Volstaag let his axe slide out of his hand and thud to the ground. Sif swiped at her face and smiled ridiculously. Jane's heart pulsed with rapid, powerful beats as her own tears ran down over her smiling lips, and the flowers perfumed the air all around her.

Within moments, night-clothed courtiers and guards from every corner of the palace began pouring in, shouting exclamations and questions, only to stop short upon the steps to see two princes—both very much alive—wrapped in an embrace that neither seemed willing to break. The court's confused attention would travel across Jane, who still sat on the bier; the spilled flowers, the twinkling torches, and the laughing warriors who encircled the sons of Asgard.

The very walls of the palace illuminated from within, and soon the entire household—every room—lit itself. The glow from the palace spread across the city, like a thousand torches held aloft on a hill…

And the stars, as if awakened from the depths of a nightmare, threw off the veil that covered them, and burned in the tapestry of the heavens with a sudden, fierce and delighted fire.

VVVVV

Morning sunlight poured into the chamber through the broad, far windows, catching within the golden bed where the king, swathed in pure white, lay on his back, his one eye closed. Thor nodded to Loki, then quietly shut the gleaming, carven door behind them. Thor hesitated, closing his hands, but Loki drew up next to him, and together they approached Odin's left hand. Loki wore a simple open-collared green shirt, trousers and boots. Thor wore the same, in red. For a moment, Loki gazed down at the wizened face, framed by snow-white hair and beard, then eased down onto the stool beside the bed. Thor remained standing, and stepped up behind his brother's back.

Loki reached out, and slid his hand into Odin's rough one, and squeezed it.

"Father."

"Mhmf," Odin grunted, taking a breath. "I was just resting my eyes."

Loki chuckled. Odin's good eye blinked, and he turned his head toward Loki. That gray gaze penetrated him—and a slow smile made wrinkles and crow's feet.

"So," he said. "You decided to come back to us."

Loki's eyebrows went up.

"I…had hoped to surprise you."

"Oh, you can't keep secrets from me," Odin scoffed quietly. "These very walls tell me what everyone's up to in this palace. Woke me up out of a dead sleep—practically shouted in my ear. As soon as I can, I'm going to turn that over to your brother—let him listen to all that nonsense."

Loki laughed, keeping his hand in Odin's. Odin gazed up at him again. And returned a little of Loki's pressure.

"Yes…You've come back to us," he murmured thoughtfully. "And yet…Not quite the same as when you left."

"Ah," Loki sighed, sitting up. "You've spotted it, then."

"Indeed, I have. I can feel it. Here." He grasped Loki's fingers, and interlaced his with Loki's. Loki grew solemn as Odin met his gaze.

"You are human."

Thor shifted painfully behind him. Loki nodded.

"A side-effect of your little trick?" Odin wondered. Loki shrugged.

"Unfortunately, I can take no credit for any of it," he confessed. "I never knew, really, what those stones of mine were capable of."

"And what does Eir say about it?" Odin wondered. Loki smiled crookedly.

"Well, at first it was difficult to get anything coherent out of her…"

"I can imagine," Odin smiled.

"But finally, she told me that my body, somehow, has translated to a Midgardian form," Loki went on. "Perhaps because Jane performed the magic. The stone drew its understanding from her. Eir supposes that if an Aesir had tried it, the stone wouldn't have had enough strength to wake me up."

"What of the apples, then?" Odin wondered. "What does she say about your…your eating one of them?"

Loki was already shaking his head.

"She says no," Odin said faintly.

"No one has ever performed this magic before," Loki explained. "It's strong, wild—and no one knows its rules. Yes, eating one of our apples could give me back what I had before. But it could also kill me straightaway."

"Hm," Odin mused, glancing off. He considered a moment, tapping his thumb on the back of Loki's hand. Then, he took a breath, and faced Loki again.

"And so…" Odin began, then hesitated. He moved his shoulders, keeping hold of Loki's hand. "What of all your…wonderful magic?"

Loki ducked his head for a moment—but he smiled. He held out his right hand, snapped his fingers—

Nothing happened.

He held his palm up and open—and empty. He shook his head, but his smile remained.

"Gone," he said, slapping his hand down on his knee. "Small price to pay."

"There is a greater price, though," Odin reminded him. "How many years do you have left?"

Loki glanced up and back at Thor, briefly—then back at their father.

"As many as Jane has. However long that might be."

"So…perhaps sixty, if the both of you stay healthy and strong," Odin surmised. Loki couldn't answer.

But then, Odin smiled in challenge.

"You may just outlive me."

Loki heard Thor chuckle behind him—a slightly broken sound, but a laugh nonetheless. And so Loki laughed too.

Odin shook Loki's hand, then clapped his other one over the top. He gazed earnestly up at Loki, his eye shining.

"You…my boy…you and your children shall always be welcome at these gates. Do you understand? I shall…I shall lay down a decree that says so, this very day. You, and all your descendants, shall always be welcome in Asgard as long as the foundations of this kingdom remain. It shall be written in the walls themselves, and in every book of law. And your sons and daughters forever onwards shall be treated as princes and princesses, and shall receive sanctuary and asylum from every enemy." He tightened down on Loki's hand, his voice unsteady. "Well…Well done, my son. Your mother…would be very proud of you."

Loki bent and kissed his father's hands, then rested his forehead on Odin's wrist. Odin laid his hand on the back of Loki's head…

And Loki sighed as a great weight lifted from his shoulders, and floated away.

VVVVV

Loki stepped out from beneath the arches, past the gate, onto the magnificent, narrow stretch of the Asbru bridge. His footsteps rang softly on the flashing rain bow as he walked. The gentle, salty wind greeted him, along with the distant cry of gulls. Far below, the gray ocean foamed and roared…

And above, the dome of heaven towered, in never-ending, sparkling, pulsing twinkling glory. Vivid once more, and quietly smiling.

He brought his attention down, and scanned the span of the bridge.

There.

A spot of scarlet against the darkness.

Loki strolled forward, barefoot, the gentle wind blowing through his light-green linen trousers and shirt—a shirt with a wide open, loose collar. It felt so good not to be bound up from the throat to the wrists—so good not to have to hide those ugly scars anymore…

He wandered up next to Thor, who sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the bridge. He wore his red trousers, but his black throw-over cloak hung around his arms and spread out behind him. He sat bent, his hands braced on the bridge, staring down at the water far below.

"Don't lean over too far," Loki warned. "You'll fall on your head."

Thor sat up and looked at him—his eyes flashed, and he frowned.

"You cut your hair!"

"Ah—yes," Loki scrubbed his fingers through his damp, short hair, enjoying the sensation. "Technically, Eir cut it. But yes."

"Why?" Thor demanded. Loki shrugged, smoothed his hair back, then dropped his hand and gazed out at the gray horizon.

"Oh, Mother never did like it long."

"Hm," Thor finally said. "You look…young."

Loki glanced down at his brother's careworn face. His eyebrows drew together.

"And you look old."

Thor sighed and turned to face the sea once more. Loki waited a beat, then came around to his left side and sat down silently, tucking one leg beneath the other and resting his left arm on his knee. He canted his head and studied Thor's profile.

"What's wrong?"

Thor sighed again. Loki waited. Thor ducked his head.

"Everything is so up-ended," he confessed. "Without Mother here…and Father just recovering, and all the wreckage in the palace…and now you."

"Me?"

Thor looked over at him. And the look pierced Loki's heart.

"You're going to die."

Loki accidentally smiled.

"So are you," he pointed out.

"Not for a very long time," Thor countered. Loki shrugged.

"Oh, I dunno—I could just push you off…" he lightly shoved Thor's shoulder. Thor shrugged him off.

"You know what I mean," Thor muttered.

"And you know what I mean," Loki replied, serious now. "None of us knows when our day will come. We've learned that by now, haven't we?"

Thor wouldn't look at him. Loki was silent for a long time, memorizing the look of Thor's face in this light—though there was no need. He knew it better than the back of his own hand.

"Thor," he began quietly, carefully. "We have both been told this since we were boys, but I must tell you…This is not the end. This here, what we know now." He leaned closer, trying to get Thor to face him. "This life, even the life of an Aesir, is a heartbeat compared to the one ahead of us. And you cannot even imagine what it's like."

Thor looked at him, his eyes penetrating.

"You've seen it, then."

Loki nodded solemnly.

"I have."

Thor swallowed—and Loki could see in his eyes that he was afraid. So Loki straightened up, and smiled out at the waters.

"Splendid beyond belief. Brighter colors than you have ever seen—all under the blinding light of the Three in One. And no realms divide anyone, no bridges must be crossed to get to them. And Peace…" he closed his eyes, and sighed. "Peace so strong you can taste it, breathe it in—it's in your bones." He opened his eyes, and met Thor's gaze. "Mumma sends her love."

Thor choked, and swallowed hard.

"You saw Mumma?"

Loki nodded once, definitively, watching Thor's eyes.

"She wanted me to tell you that she has always been proud of you." Loki lifted his chin. "You have never failed her. You are brave, and true—her Sunshine, she said." Loki smiled. "She says it will just seem like a little time to her, until she sees you again. Yet she cannot wait."

Thor covered his eyes with his hand and struggled. Loki stayed silent, watching him tenderly. Finally, Thor dropped his hand, and looked out over the ocean, his eyelashes sparkling.

"What I mean to say, Thor…" Loki murmured. "Is that, no matter if we leave tomorrow or a thousand years from now—that is what awaits us." He leaned even closer. "We do not ever have to be afraid."

"It's true, then," Thor said roughly, turning to face him. "What we've always been told. It is true."

"Not exactly as we pictured," Loki admitted. "But yes."

"But a place of bright colors, and peace, and light," Thor persisted. "Where we will see Mumma again—"

"Yes," Loki answered. Thor reached out and gripped Loki's right shoulder.

"And I shall see you there."

Loki never wavered.

"You shall."

Thor threw his arms around Loki—Loki did the same to Thor. Thor took a fistful of Loki's shortened hair, and Loki buried his face in Thor's shoulder.

And so they remained for a very long time, as the gulls cried and the wind gusted all around them. Loki never stirred with impatience, or moved to withdraw—and Thor said nothing, either. They leaned together, upon the eternal stability of the Asbru bridge—the king drawing strength from the prince, the elder resting in the arms of the younger, the Aesir mingling peaceful tears with the mortal.

VVVVV

Jane wandered through the pink and purple twilight, watching the pastel colors mingle in the sky as the sun set. The wind whispered through the leaves in the lush garden, carrying the heady scent of roses. She meandered down a winding, pebbled path, her footsteps crunching, her attention trailing across the ivy-covered stone walls. Tree frogs chirped, and a nightingale sang somewhere up next to the tower—by Sif's balcony.

She paused at the center of the garden, near a large, smooth black rock, and she turned around and leaned back against it, letting her gaze trail through the heavens.

"You found my garden."

She straightened.

Loki strode in, wearing loose, green linen clothes, and no shoes. He smiled at her. Her mouth fell open, and then she laughed.

"You cut your hair!"

"Yes, I did," he ran his hand self-consciously through it.

"I almost didn't recognize you!" Jane said.

"Do you like it?" he asked, coming up to stand a little apart from her. She canted her head as she looked at him, and her smile grew.

"Yeah, I do," she decided. "It makes you look younger."

"That's what Thor said," Loki smirked, coming around her to lean back against the boulder. He folded his arms, and glanced up at the sky. Jane hesitated, then leaned back beside him. Their shoulders touched.

"How…How is Thor?" Jane asked, a twinge of discomfort traveling through her chest. Loki sighed.

"He is sad," he answered. "About Mother, about Asgard. About me. But I…" His attention grew distant as he watched the stars. "I have told him that this world is only a passing thing, anyway. He need not be afraid."

Jane stared at his profile, suddenly captured. The starlight shone in his eyes, illuminated his healthy skin. Her heart picked up speed.

"You…" she started. "You're…different."

He turned his head and frowned at her.

"Aren't you," she insisted. "You are. Something about you is different. I mean besides the obvious…human…thing. There's something else."

He studied her face for a moment, and then he quietly smiled and glanced out across the garden.

"It gets clearer every day," he murmured. "The distinctions. But at first, right after I came back, I couldn't tell the difference. It all blurred together. And I kept wondering when you'd misplaced your wedding ring."

Jane's breath caught. He looked at her.

Her heart raced.

Loki shifted, turning his shoulders toward her.

"You remember the stone I gave you, the one in the setting," he reminded her. "Did the setting ever look familiar to you?"

Jane frowned, her mind racing.

"I…Yes—I thought so—"

"That's because it belonged to your grandmother," Loki said.

"What?" Jane cried, trying to scramble up. "What—how—"

"Sh, sh," Loki reached out and took hold of her arm, and kept her where she was. "Listen for a moment."

Jane stopped struggling, fixating on him, frowning fiercely in concentration. His grip loosened—but he kept his hand there.

"Many years ago, a Midgardian scientist named Johann Schmidt accidentally used the tesseract to travel between realms. Because that way is chaos, he ripped holes in the fabrics of the realms, and of time and space. And then, when Thor broke the Asbru bridge to prevent me from destroying Jotunheim, and I fell off of it into the closing door…" His thumb moved against her arm. "I fell into several places at once."

"What, like…like alternate realities?" Jane gasped, fighting to understand. He nodded.

"Yes," he said. "And in one of them, I fell to Midgard, into the desert…and you found me."

"I found you?"

He nodded again, his eyebrows drawing together as his gaze intensified.

"And I gave you that stone of mine, and you put it in your grandmother's setting, and you wore it from then onward. But then, much later, we two discovered the damage being done to the seams of time, and we knew that if the tesseract was used again for inter-realm travel, it would destroy us all. So you stepped through one of the seams, into another line of time, and gave that stone to…yourself."

Jane slapped a hand to her head. Loki reached up and pulled her hand down, and curled his fingers through hers. He felt warm, and stable—an anchor. Jane tried to calm her spinning mind.

"You told yourself to go find me, in that realm on Midgard, and to rescue me, so that Thor would not try to use the tesseract to take me home," Loki continued, keeping hold of her hand. "The stone gave you the power to do that. You succeeded. And then, those two of us, when the convergence was starting…dropped the stone down one of the portals, and into this world…" His voice lowered, and his eyes brightened. "Where I found it in my cell, wore it for a time…and then gave it to you."

"That's impossible," Jane stammered.

"It certainly sounds impossible," Loki said. "But I assure you, it is not. You see…" he shifted closer to her. "That stone absorbed every memory, every experience, every thought, every pain and joy and sorrow of the person wearing it. Because it always laid so close to the heart," he said earnestly. "It learned from that person's…that person's Heart Magick." He swallowed, and caught up her other hand with both of his. "And each time…the one wearing it was you."

Jane gulped, her heart hammering—but she didn't pull back.

"That stone guided us, Jane," Loki pressed, his thumb absently moving across the back of her left-hand fingers. "In every place, in every time, it guided us and protected us—and carried us, through all of it. And now…it's here." He pressed his hand to his chest. But his other thumb finally found Jane's ring finger—and rubbed methodically against it…

As if he was used to pushing a diamond back and forth.

"So…So, wait," Jane said breathlessly, trying to get her brain to work. "You said wedding ring. Wedding ring?"

He didn't answer. Jane's eyebrows went up.

"Wedding ring?" she said weakly. "So did you and I, in these other places…"

Loki impulsively smiled.

"Didn't you have dreams, too?"

Jane blushed—the heat flooded her face.

Loki reached up, slipped his hand around her neck, leaned in and kissed her lips—gently, but with such knowing purpose that she instantly swooned and her legs turned to water. He caught her, encircling her waist with his other arm and laying her back against the rock, lacing his fingers through her hair and fervently, repeatedly kissing her. She strove to keep up, to answer—

Their lips parted, he turned his head and kissed her all down the length of her neck. Fire blazed through her whole body. Then, he took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth with deep, longing passion—Jane drowned in the scent of him, and in the thunder of her heartbeat.

He lingered, then drew back, just an inch.

He grinned—

And pulled off of her, flashing his eyebrows.

"All right," he purred. "That's enough until we've married."

He pushed off the rock and righted himself, looking casually up in the air.

Jane gasped, straightened her blouse and shoved her hair out of her face.

"Wh—I'm not marrying you!"

"Oh, yes you are," he said flippantly.

"No, I'm not."

He grinned wolfishly at her.

Her heart skipped three beats, and that fire flamed through her again. She gritted her teeth and pointed at him.

"No."

He looked up at the sky again.

"What—What is up there?" Jane demanded, folding her arms and trying to get her erratic heartbeat to be rational again.

"Come," he said, and snatched up her hand. Before she knew it, he was tugging her down the garden path at a trot.

"Where are we going?" she demanded, the night wind blowing her hair.

"I once said that nothing like this ever happened in Asgard," he said. "And that if it did, it must be the end of the worlds. But…" They swung around, and hurried up a flight of white spiral steps. "I have recently learned that, for the first time in the history of Asgard, it will be happening. So, it will either be the end of an age…or the beginning."

"What's happening?" Jane wanted to know. But he didn't say anything. Instead, they burst out onto a wide, high terrace that overlooked the gardens. Loki, panting, turned and scanned the skies again.

"All right, the north-east…" he murmured.

"What?" Jane asked.

"Patience, Alslking," he said absently. "Wait for the sun."

Jane wondered what exactly "alskling" meant, but only for a moment. As he entwined their fingers, she gazed out at the horizon as the sun gradually disappeared, and the deep oranges vanished from the skies. The billions of stars, galaxies and nebulae instantly brightened, as if bending closer. And then—

"Look!" Loki pointed high up into the air. Jane's attention jerked up—

And three blinding white streaks sped across the sky.

"Shooting stars!" Jane cried, clamping down on his hand in sudden excitement. "Are there going to be more?"

"Thousands," Loki answered, a smile in his voice. "Come here."

He drew her closer, even as the night sky began to flicker and dance with tumbling sparks. He pulled her back against his chest, so she had to stand on his feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she settled into him, grinning like a little girl…

As the heavens poured falling stars like rain. They sparkled like trailing fireworks, streaking like comets—striking and brilliant against the fathomless backdrop of the towering, colorful heavens. Jane laughed out loud, chills racing across her skin.

"I've never seen anything like this in my life," she whispered. And Loki squeezed her fingers.

For endless minutes they watched the celestial show as it transformed the sky over Asgard, lighting up the land beneath and leaving lines of brilliance across the wispy clouds. Absently, Jane heard other courtiers emerge onto the balconies behind them, and utter soft cries of admiration and awe as the white tongues of fire lit up the night. And as the moon rose and the shower continued, Jane truly began to wonder if these really were meteors—just hunks of rock speeding through an atmosphere—or if they were star-dust. Or gemstones.

Or fairies.

She sucked in a breath, her thoughts coming loose of that enchantment as Loki moved his head and began pressing soft kisses to her ear, and then down the side of her neck. She sighed, her eyes drifting shut as thrills raced down her spine.

"No," she murmured.

"No, what?" he breathed in her ear.

"I'm not marrying you."

Loki smiled against her skin.

"Yes you are."

Jane grinned.

Loki straightened, and turned her in his arms. She glanced up and back, into his eyes. And he gazed down at her, half of his features lit by the falling stars, the other half touched by the glow of the palace. Solemn, bright, and open. He brought his hand around and touched her face, tilting it just so…

Leaned down and kissed her mouth—deliberately, sweetly. She reached up and pressed her hand to his neck, yearned up and kissed him back. And their embrace deepened and wound tighter as they contentedly tasted each other's lips—as the rest of the worlds, the rest of the realms, and every trace of trouble faded to the back of their minds—and the heavens fell gently all around them.

"We are home
We are where we shall be forever.
Trust in me,
For you know I won't run away.
From today
This is all that I need
And all that I need to say.
Home should be where the heart is

I'm certain as I can be.

I found home
You're my home
Stay with me."

-The Transformation, Beauty and the Beast

VVV

"It will be all right in the end.

If it's not all right,

It's not the end."

-Unknown