26 - A Prince Posing as a Postman

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Chapter Twenty-Six

A Prince Posing as a Postman

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Thor didn't mean to, but sometime in the wee hours of the morning, he fell asleep in the chair at the other end of Loki's bedchamber, to the sounds of splashing and laughter from the recording currently playing on the screen. When he woke again around midmorning, his foster brother was scribbling on a sheet of paper. Every so often he would pause to consult a thick tome bound in brown leather tooled with silver. Thor yawned. Scratched his beard. Loki didn't look like the deathly pale, tortured phantom the crown prince had first seen upon entering the bedchamber the night before. Still too pale for the Asgardian's liking, Loki seemed in better spirits this morning; focused rather than driven, tired rather than haggard with exhaustion. Thor had to wonder when his brother had managed to sleep…if he had slept.

"Morning," Thor yawned. His brother mumbled something without looking away from whatever he was writing. "Have you slept at all?"

"No time," Loki replied shortly. "This needs to be finished quickly. Too much time has been wasted already."

"What is that? A letter?"

Loki shook his head, quill pen scritch-scratching across the page. "I wrote my letters already. There." He gestured to two letters—one thick, perhaps three or four pages, and one consisting of only a single folded sheet of paper—both already sealed with green wax and resting on his bed. "I've begun working on the seiðr algorithms necessary to begin repairs to the shattered quantum üru pilings that frame the first of the seven spectrum matrices in the Bifröst. The fools…how can they not know that you must begin reweaving the spectrum matrices in their proper order? The Bifröst may look like all of a piece but it isn't, the bloody idiots. Little wonder the cursed thing refuses to hold together."

Thor pressed a hand to his head and grimaced. "You know, Brother, you are the only person I know who can make me feel as if I have a mead-head first thing in the morning just by opening your mouth."

A small smile tugged at Loki's lips. Thor noticed they were still raw from how his foster brother had savaged them with his teeth all these months. "You never could understand mathematics," Loki said with a fleeting look of indulgence on his thin face.

Thor snorted and got to his feet, stretching the kinks out of his spine. "Was that what you were talking about? All I heard was seiðr this and üru that and— what in the Nine Realms is that?"

He pointed to a cloth item on the bed beside the letters. It looked like a bright green, oblong bag with no opening…but it had just started pulsing. Like a spider's egg-sac readying to hatch forth a thousand little eight-legged, blood-sucking plague-beasts. And it was glowing.

Loki spared a glance for the cloth sack on the bed. "Oh. A gift for…for Sophie." A shadow passed over the pale face and thin, black brows drew sharply together. "I want to…to give her something. So she knows I think of her. So she knows that I…that I love her. I never want her to believe, to ever think for even a moment, that I do not love her with all my heart."

"She knows, Brother," Thor said softly. "Thea tells her every day." Then, slightly uneasy at the sight of the pulsing thing—Loki wasn't quite sane, he knew that—he added, "What is it?"

"In about forty-five seconds it will be a stuffed toy," Loki replied, going back to his scribbling on the Bifröst. "But by creating it this way, I've given it the ability to do something very interesting. Something that, from Thea's letters, I think Sophie will like quite a bit."

Even as Thor watched, the faint jade light emanating from the cloth bag intensified, deepening to a rich emerald. Golden sparks erupted across the woven surface, dancing and sparkling. There was a faint crackling sound, and a hum. The light dimmed. A dark seam split the sack from top to bottom and began to widen. When it was perhaps the width of Thor's hand and still as black and impenetrable as the darkness at the bottom of a well, the sack turned translucent, like malleable green glass, and slid back from the thing that had been growing inside of it. The darkness of the opened seam faded, revealing what Loki had made.

It was a butterfly. Made of soft cloth, with two buttons the color of spring blue-jays for eyes and a blue-stitched smile, it was a little smaller than Sophie's teddy bear. Pale yellow, dusty green, and rich blue cloth formed its body, but its wings…they rippled with a thousand of spring's pastel colors, shimmering in the light flooding the room from the window (when had Loki opened the window?) like real butterfly wings. It was obvious to anyone who looked that it was a toy…but it was also obvious, even to Thor, that it was an impressive piece of magic, as well.

"Thea said Sophie likes butterflies," Loki murmured. He'd paused a moment to look at the butterfly that had emerged from its cloth cocoon. "And ladybugs. I…I knew that, actually. It feels strange that I should know anything about her without being told by someone…I have never really met her, but…but I remembered, you see. From when Thea would bring her into the illusions. She loved butterflies with their bright colors, and ladybugs that weren’t afraid to land on her outstretched hands, and dragonflies with their jeweled bodies and their gossamer wings. So I made my daughter a butterfly. It gave me something to do after I'd finished the first few recordings and read Thea's letters while I waited for a servant to bring me the books and reports I needed." He glared at the stack of papers sandwiched between two other leather-bound books in his lap. "And little wonder the Bridge is not repaired yet. What has been done thus far is slipshod at best."

His expression softened as he looked at the box of letters, pictures, and silver discs. "I could have watched another recording…I wanted to, but…but I knew not when the servant would return, and I want no one else to see these yet. Do you think me foolish?" He added, glancing to Thor. "That I should horde such things? But…but these memories that she has captured for me…they're mine, you see. Untainted. Untouched by shadow, by madness. Pure and clean as fresh water in the mountains. These moments…they're mine, and mine alone for now…and I did not wish anyone else, save someone I trusted with my very soul, to see them. Do you think that foolish?"

Thor thought of what the Chitauri had done to his brother, warping and twisting his memories until Loki didn’t know who he could trust, who he could believe in, who loved him and who didn't…save Thea. He thought of the raw desperation and fear he'd sometimes glimpsed in Loki's eyes, but hadn't recognized or understood where it came from. He knew now. His brother had feared losing himself to the Chitauri darkness, and his memories were the threads that bound him, the blood and bone of who he was. Memory had helped to shape him into the man Thea loved so deeply. No wonder he guarded these new moments, these new memories, so jealously.

"No," Thor said softly. "No, I do not think you foolish, Loki." He nodded to the butterfly. "That is…an impressive piece of work."

"You know her better than I. Do you think…do you think she will like it?" The man who asked this didn't seem like the Loki that Thor had known for so many centuries. This man seemed uncertain, and tired, and nearly broken. If his daughter didn't like the toy, it would no doubt devastate him. The littlest thing might destroy the once proud prince. He was still so fragile.

The crown prince nodded. "I think she will." An awkward silence fell. Thor wanted to speak, to break that silence as Mjölnir might shatter stone…but he was uncertain what he should say. At last, he said, "Do you want me to deliver those today?" He indicated the letters.

Loki nodded. "If you would. The butterfly, as well." He closed his eyes. Deep lines etched across his face as he whispered, "Swear to me again that this is real. Swear it on the Norns. Swear it on Mother's life, on Mjölnir, on the love you bear your own lady. Swear it to me, Thor."

"I swear that this is all real, Loki. Your wife and child still live. You will be with them as soon as the Bifröst is mended. This I swear, by the Norns themselves and the Tapestry of Fate, on our mother's life. Thus I swear by my hammer as well as my love for Jane. What other token can I bring you, my brother, to erase your doubts?"

Green eyes stared at nothing as Loki drew a slow breath and let it ease out again. He glanced at the four pages of Thea's first letter. Swallowed. Closed his eyes once more. Voice a mere thread of sound, he replied, "Tell Thea when you see her…tell her that I am thinking of two things. Two poems she loved. 'To Amarantha,' and her own poem. She will know which one you mean, and she should give you something before you come back to Asgard."

"Will that prove to you that is all real?"

Loki sighed and glanced first at the shimmering stuffed butterfly toy on the bed, then to the window. Birdsong trilled cheerfully through the open window. A soft, late-spring wind tugged playfully at the emerald velvet curtains. Loki bit his lip—not hard, but the flesh was so ravaged, a few drops of blood welled up all the same.

"What will become of me, Thor, if I believe…and then this all melts away? All illusion and vain fantasy, melting through my fingers like the substance of broken dreams…The shards of those dreams are enough to carve out my very heart." Loki looked back at him at last and added, "I do not know if I can believe, Thor. Not until she is here. Not until I can hold her to me, feel her arms around my neck. Until I can breathe in her scent and hear her whisper to me that she is truly with me at last. But it will help, I think. Perhaps." Dropping his gaze back to the book and the papers in his lap, he said, "It matters not in the long run, I suppose. The Bifröst will be mended soon enough."

Thor's brows rose. "How soon, exactly?" How much progress could his brother have possibly made in the few hours he'd had after finishing Thea's letters?

"Four days," Loki said. Thor's jaw went slack and he stared at his brother. "If the king does not insist on questioning my every calculation and actually puts intelligent sorceresses to work on carrying out the designated repairs. Perhaps I can speak to Mother about it. Odin will need a team of seiðr adepts for each spectrum matrix. The hardest will be the first matrix…the weaving requires someone adept with fire seiðr." With another brief glance at Thor, he added, "I suggest Angbodr and Amora. Give that suggestion to the king without attaching my name to it. If he asks, remind him that both of them are two of the strongest fire adepts in Asgard."

He hesitated. "You are certain you can work with them?"

"I will not be working with them," Loki replied. "I will give my calculations to Mother. She can give them to the king. Odin can do as he likes with them."

That was the second time his brother had called Frigga "Mother," but he had yet to call Odin "Father." Thor frowned. Keeping his voice nonchalant, he asked something he'd wondered about for some time. "Loki…you once said Thea was disgusted by our father—"

"Your father," Loki said softly. "He does not claim me as his son."

Thor shook his head. "That is not true. Our father loves you. The Chitauri have twisted your perceptions, Brother. Remember? They have—"

"Been unable to play with my memories of the past nineteen months to that point," Loki replied coldly, without looking up from whatever he was writing. "You came to me often. Tyr, Víðarr, even the twins came to me at least once or twice. In my bitterness, in my grief, I could not bear to have them near. I wanted so much to tell them…" He trailed off. The silence was broken only by the scritch of the pen and the crackle of the flames on the bedroom hearth.

"To tell them what?"

The tip of Loki's quill pen flicked against his lips, pinched nearly white. He gazed sightlessly at the page for a few moments before finally speaking. "I wanted to tell them about Thea. About Sophie. About the days and weeks and months of fear and blood and pain. But I knew they would not believe."

Gently, Thor said, "Mother would have."

"Have we not broken her heart enough?" Loki asked with a bitter twist of his mouth. "The bold, brave sons of Queen Frigga, the wisest and most beautiful woman in Asgard…no. No, I would not have inflicted that pain on her. I would not have hurt her with my confessions. But Odin." Loki's voice had softened and gentled as he spoke of the queen. Now a savage fury smoldered beneath the words, a coldness like the arctic winds of Jötunheim. "Odin never came. He refused to see me after my trial. Refused to look at me with any warmth, any love at all. The only times he came to me were because of you. Because you wanted him there. No matter how much he claimed to love me in the past, those words were merely that—words."

"Did Thea believe that?" Thor asked, wondering if he dared too much by asking. "You said once that she despised our father. That he disgusted her. Was that true?" The question had niggled at the back of his mind, but there had never been a good time to ask until now. When Loki had made that claim, even back then, Thor had sensed something like deceit in his brother…but not quite. More like Loki was only telling half the truth.

Loki let out a pent-up breath. "No," he said at last. "She didn't. But she had…has a generous heart. She forgives often and easily, and is always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt."

Thinking of her hostility toward Nicholas Fury, Thor snorted. "Not always."

One black brow winged upward. "Well…she can be quite the mother lioness with those she loves. But no, she did not believe Odin cared nothing for me…"

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The hollow bonk-bonk of the basketball thudding against the gray cement of the basketball court was oddly reassuring to Loki as Thea let the ball hit pavement, bounce up to smack her palm, and then slam back to the court again. Since that moment when they had kissed for the first time only a week ago in the illusionary ballroom, it seemed he found comfort in nearly every routine thing she did.

Perhaps because his silent confession of love had changed nothing between them. She still adored him completely. He still worshipped her. The new intimacy that existed between them, so beautiful, so strong when such things were normally so fragile, hadn’t damaged what they'd already had as they had both feared it might.

Loki lay, eyes closed, stretched out at the far end of the court—which Thea had made as soft as spring grass for him—soaking up the warmth of the sun. From the other end of the basketball court there came the hollow metallic thunk of the ball hitting the backboard before swooshing into the net and thudding back to the ground. Then there was silence for a time, punctuated only by the twitter of birds and the rustle of the wind in the grass. He didn't open his eyes when he heard Thea's footsteps on the cement coming toward him at a rapid pace. He waited until she bounded up to him and dropped down to the ground at his side.

"Hey," she said. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling, but there was sorrow in it. He wondered if she knew how often he caught a glimpse of the sorrow and fear underneath her happiness. It wasn't false, that happiness. Being with him brought her real joy…but that didn't erase the fear. They were still prisoners.

"Hello," Loki murmured. His lips curved into a smile when her fingertips touched the arch of his cheekbone, tracing to the shallow dip beneath the rise of bone, then to the corner of his mouth and over his lips. "Resorting to manhandling me during my repose, now, are we?"

She giggled. "You know you like it. I'm the greatest G-rated man-handler you are ever going to meet. Go ahead and feel all kinds of lucky. You won the manhandling lottery. Do a fist-pump; I promise not to judge. We love goddesses are above such petty prejudices." Loki merely chuckled and she grinned. "I'm glad you're smiling. That's why I came over. And to bother you." She pushed on his shoulder. "Bother."

"The horror," Loki muttered, unable to suppress his smile. "The agony. I do not believe I can bear another moment of this torture."

Thea pushed on his shoulder again. "Bother," she said, laughing.

"Oh," Loki said dryly. "Please. Mercy. It hurts." Laughing still, she collapsed onto his stomach, settling herself perpendicular to his body so she could use his belly as a pillow. Loki raised an eyebrow. "Comfortable?"

"Mmm," she replied. But then he sensed a shifting in her mood, a sudden seriousness chasing away the moment of amusement. Softly, she said, "Why don't you talk about your dad?" He stiffened. Tried to force himself to relax. Thea continued, "You've told me all about your mom, your brothers. Your friends. Your witchy ex-girlfriends," she added with what might have been a snarl under the words. "But never about your dad."

"I do not have a father," Loki said flatly.

Thea snorted, somehow keeping the sound from coming across as derisive. If anything, she sounded exasperated. "Everyone has a dad, Loki. You have two, just like me. Well, I have three, if you count the guy who spawned me like a salmon. But whatever. You've got two. One's a super douche who should go drown himself in a bucket of acid. The other is an idiot who needs parenting lessons…but you never talk about either of them."

He shrugged as best he could while lying down. "There is little to speak of. Laufey's wife, Farbuti, carried and birthed me. Then the two of them, disappointed by my weak stature, left me to die in the Jötunn temple from the elements."

He felt her nod. "Yeah, I know. Then Odin found you and took you in."

The disguised Frost Giant made a sharp sound of negation. Thea didn’t seem to react to his suddenly foul temper, his surge of irritation; in Asgard, if he'd made that noise during a conversation with a woman, she would have fluttered and dithered, trying to ease his upset, trying to avoid some sort of fallout. Thea simply let him be upset…which, in itself, helped soothe his temper. It proved that she didn't fear Loki the Frost Giant, Loki the monster, Loki the killer, Loki the destroyer of Jötunheim. His anger didn’t frighten her; he'd never had that from a woman before.

"He took me from Jötunheim so he could use me as a bargaining chip," Loki muttered, flexing his fingers. "To buy peace between Asgard and Jötunheim."

Thea said nothing for a moment. She simply reached around with her left hand and touched his jaw, dancing her fingertips over his skin. That soothed him, too. Loki had always detested being touched by strangers, but he'd found something comforting in physical contact with those he loved. His mother, for instance. Thor. And Thea.

At last Thea said, "He may have saved your life for an ulterior motive, but it's impossible to be around a person for that long without learning to care for them." Loki made a sound of derision—Odin didn't care about him! He'd proved that when he'd condemned Loki while the fostered prince hung practically by his fingertips from the haft of Gungnir. After everything he'd done to protect Asgard, wrong and dangerous and ruthless as it had been, his father had denied him yet again. But Thea added, "Look at you and me."

Loki frowned. "I fail to see the connection."

"Admit it. You would never have fallen for a freak like me, not in a million bazillion years, if not for the fact that we fell in love because we're trapped in our little conjoined hell-boxes. You wouldn’t have looked twice at me. And even when we became friends—and of course we became friends; I stuffed you full of pizza and pudding—did you ever see us falling like this?"

He shifted his right arm, bringing it from behind his head to atop his torso so he could thread his fingers through the warm silk of her hair. Would he have believed he'd lose his heart and soul to this woman? A Midgardian? A commoner? A so-called "freak?" No. Not then. But he had learned to love her, first as a friend—there had been no else, and he had needed someone desperately—and then as a woman, as his lady.

"Odin may have taken a bargaining chip from Jötunheim," she said softly. "But if you think about it, he lost that bargaining chip when he lost his heart to a sweet, innocent baby rescued from the ice."

There was something thick and salty lodged in his throat; it made it difficult to breathe, to swallow. He shifted, and Thea immediately sat up, knowing he needed some distance between them. Loki surged to his feet and staggered several paces away, shaking a little.

Lost his heart. Lost his heart? Odin? To the wretch he'd brought back from the northern wastes? To the foundling who could never belong? The one who was always second-best, always chosen last, always ignored, always unwanted? Yes, Tyr had been the heir, and then Thor after him, but…but he'd always tried so hard to be what Odin wanted and it had never been even close to enough.

"Parents always want their children to be the best," Thea added, coming close to him. She didn’t touch him. That was the thing about her—she would have long ago driven Loki completely mad if not for the fact that she always gave him what he needed. Perhaps her empathic abilities guided her. Whatever it was, she never offered silliness when he needed her consideration, never smothered him when he needed distance. "And they always worry when their children don't fit in."

Loki scoffed. "And how would you know that, Althea? You have no children secreted away back on Midgard, I trust?"

Her laugh was soft and inviting, a gentle coaxing to let go of his foul mood. "Yeah, no. No babies for me just now. You know, being a virgin and all. But I know. Trust me. I'm a mutant, for crying out loud. And so are three of my siblings. My mom's biggest fear when we were kids was someone finding out while we were out somewhere and a mob killing us because we were different from everyone else. So trust me, I know."

"You think that is why Odin always compared me to Thor, to Tyr? Even to Víðarr? Because he feared for me because I was a different?" Loki shook his head. "I was a prince. My so-called father was a king. What had I to fear?"

Thea came close enough to slide her arms around him. She laid her cheek against the spot between his shoulder blades. He felt her, warm and pliant, at his back. "What did you have to fear?" She echoed. "Every sucky thing that happened in your life. People being cruel to you, to your face and behind your back, because you were different. Which was what your dad tried to prevent by making you the same." She sighed. "Took my mom until Cleo was in elementary school—Cleo's the youngest—before she realized that it's easier to handle being different when you've got your family behind you. Looks like your dad hasn’t figured that out yet."

A rueful smile tugged at Loki's mouth. "That simple, is it?"

"Parenting is never simple. My mom always says anyone who tells you dealing with your kids is easy is just stringing you. It's all secrets and lies to sucker the rest of us into breeding."

The smile emerged in full force at her wary tone. "Indeed. So my brother says…or words to that effect. But tell me, since you seem fairly wise about such things. Why did my father not tell me I was a foundling?"

Thea sighed. "Because he's stupid."

Loki glanced over his shoulder at her. "That's all you have to say? No words of wisdom?"

"Actually, if you figure this one out, you've pretty much got the universe figured out, too. He loves you. Love makes people stupid. It also makes the world go round." Thea frowned. "Which pretty much means that stupid makes the world go round. That is a scary thought. But yeah, I think that's pretty insightful. Goddess of beauty and wisdom over here. Where's my tiara? But in seriousness, Loki…do you know why my mom made sure I knew I was adopted from the time she got hold of me and my brother?"

He shook his head.

"Because she was adopted, but no one told her for a long time. Somehow a kid found out about it at her school and told her some horrible things about how being adopted meant your real parents threw you away. She never wanted me or the rest of my siblings to go through anything like that.

"But you know what? We did anyway. Obnoxious kids said the same thing to Austin and Theo and me about our birth parents. In mine and Theo's case, it was true. Our mom left us on the steps of a cathedral in the middle of winter. We could've died.

"Odin probably didn't want you going through the same thing. You know how kids can be if they feel like it. Your mom even said it—they never wanted you to feel different."

"I am different!" Loki snapped, turning to glare at her. "I have always been different! And I have always been shunned for that difference! The Asgardians always considered me a…a freak! Unnatural! It didn't help, my parents' lies! It helped nothing!"

Thea shook her head. "No. It didn't. Because parents love us, and it makes them stupid sometimes. They think they're doing what's best, but they're really not. Can you blame them for trying?" When he said nothing, she sighed.

"I had a friend once. A girl at school. Allison. She didn’t board at the school, she lived at home nearby. One time we were all talking about running away, whether we'd really do it or not. A lot of the kids at school had bad home situations—or would, if their parents ever found out they were mutants. And Allison dumped out the bag she always carried, which had a lot of stuff in it. Another kid asked if she always carried that much stuff in her bag, and she said she did. We talked about that. But remember, I'm an empath. I knew there was more going on. So I asked her why. And she just looked at me for a moment, then grabbed all of her stuff, got up, and walked away."

Loki frowned. "I…do not understand."

She nodded. "I know. Wait a sec. So I followed her. And I realized when I caught up to her that the reason she carried all that stuff was because either she really wanted to run away, or she wanted people to think she really wanted to. And I asked her what it was like at her house, and she started to cry. I asked her if her parents hurt her, if that was the problem, or were doing things to her. Things we needed to tell our teachers about. But she shook her head and said, 'Worse.' When I asked her what it was, she said, 'They ignore me.' Which sounds kind of stupid, but I could feel what she was feeling. I knew it wasn't stupid, and it wasn't unimportant. It was major big, the kind of thing she was talking about. She meant they literally didn't care. If she'd been hit by a bus or robbed a bank or decided to tap-dance naked covered in chocolate sauce at the local Baptist church, they wouldn’t have given a flying rat's buttered carcass.

"My mom has never ignored me. She's never hurt me. She's never done anything bad to me, or my brothers or sisters. When the Super Douche hurt Austin, she got us out of there after letting us kick his butt a little bit. She's my mom. And she loves me. And I think, if I wasn't a mutant, the Super Douche would love me now just as much as he loved me when I was little. But honestly, I would rather my parents hurt me a little by accident trying to show they love me than for them to ignore my existence, like I don't matter to them at all.

"I matter to my mom. You matter to your dad. Parents just do really dumb stuff sometimes. Make mistakes. So do we. I mean, look at us. I love you more than a chocaholic squirrel loves an almond Hershey bar. I'd do anything for you." Loki's eyes widened and his heart knifed sideways in his chest, but Thea didn't let him interrupt. She continued, "And considering the situation in which we find ourselves—prisoners in the dank creepy dungeon of the alien-spawn of the mutant-demon cockroaches with poky sticks of shocky torment—that's pretty stupid of me. Logically, I should be looking out for just myself. You shouldn't even be bothering with a whacko like me.

"And yes, I'm a whacko. I had the opportunity to be Miss Universe because I was such a stellar babe and decided not to because I had to wear this ugly bathing suit and get my picture taken. Pretty crazy, right? I could've been a beauty queen. Boys would have drooled over me while ogling me on the television. I could've ripped their metaphorical hearts out with just my gaze. Think of the power at my fingertips.

"And yet, despite logic trying to worm its way into our brains, here we are. In love. Madly. Stupidly. Dangerously. Like I said—people do dumb stuff when they love someone. Even parents. Even kings. Even your dad."

Loki just stared at her for a minute, lost for words. Thea rocked back on her heels, sliding her hands into the back-pockets of her jeans, and waited for him to figure out what he wanted to say. Eventually he managed to murmur, "Am I to take it, then, that you think me stupid for caring for you?"

She stared back at him for several long moments of silence, then laughed. It almost sounded as if she were in pain. "Ohmigawsh, really? Are we changing the subject from your dad to you and our relationship now? Okay, fine. Do I think you're dumb? No. Oblivious? Well, to be honest…considering I was pouring out my heart to you last week and you didn't even realize it, yeah. Little oblivious. You don’t see how fantastically, splendiferously cool you are. I blame the Witches of the East, West, and…well, Amora's blond. We'll make her the Witch of the South. And what's her face. Sif. I blame the four of them. Death to the bimbos, blah-blah." Cuddling close to him, she slid her arms around his neck. "Here's the basic deal, Green Eyes. Either your dad loves you, in which case, yay! Or he doesn't. In which case, boo! Doom on him! But either way, you know what doesn't change?"

Looking into her eyes, silver and blue swirling together, a smile curving her lips, he asked softly, "What? Tell me." Though somehow he knew already. He knew what she would say, and it pushed back the anger and hurt still twisting and knotting inside him until it barely registered.

"No matter what anyone else thinks, I still think you're the greatest thing since the invention of butterscotch pudding. I'd eat your splendid and smexy self with a spoon, just like pudding…okay, that sounds just a little dirty. But, hey. I love you." She bounced up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his in a fleeting kiss that left his lips tingling pleasantly. "Forget everyone else. Who cares if you're a freak? You're a hot freak. Who cares if you're a Frost Giant? I dig guys with blue skin. Who cares if you're different? So am I. Really different." She shrugged. "So what? I love you."

Loki reached up to cup her face. Allowed his thumb to brush her cheek in a gentle sweep that sent her eyelashes fluttering. Thea drew a shallow breath. He lowered his forehead to hers. Rested it there, and just stood with her for a moment. Loki could feel how she melted into his arms when he touched her. Feel every beat of her heart, every shallow breath she took through slightly parted lips. Why did Thea trust him so much? No woman had ever trusted him with herself like this.

"That means more to me than you can ever know," Loki whispered just before his lips brushed against the soft silk of hers. Just the barest touch. A hint of taste. She tasted of chocolate and vanilla cream, with an undertaste of sugar and syrup. Cream puffs and that drink she liked so much…Pepsi. Thea offered him a soft sigh as his lips caressed hers again. Once. Twice. She pressed closer to him.

Thea accepted him. She cared for him. Loved him. It was so new, so strange, to think that someone he wanted, someone he loved like this, could want and love him in return…but she did. And that made her all the more precious.

Perhaps Thea was right. Perhaps love did make people stupid.

But Loki didn't care.

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Thor strode down the palace corridor an hour later, Loki's words echoing in his skull long after he'd left his foster brother. Love makes people stupid. Yes, he thought. It probably did. But it was glorious, too. Both the crown prince and his foster brother knew that.

He'd already delivered Loki's instructions on the Bifröst to his mother and contacted Víðarr to arrange for travel back to Midgard. He carried Loki's two precious letters, as well as the butterfly. He would meet Víðarr at the edge of the Bifröst. Already Thor was thinking of what Sophie would do when she saw the toy her father had made for her. Would she like it? He thought she would, but…but what if she didn't? And how would Thea react to knowing that Loki predicted they would be reunited in a mere four days?

"Thor!" At the sound of his father calling his name, the prince turned. Odin emerged from the dining hall with something in his hand. He approached his son and held it out. It was a letter. Princess Althea had been written in Odin's strong hand. "I meant to give this to you at breakfast but—"

"Forgive me, Father. I breakfasted with Mother. I did not know you wished to speak to me." Thor took the letter, adding it to the two he already held. Noting his father's gaze on the prince's burden, he added, "Letters from Loki. One is for Thea, one for Sophie."

"And the butterfly?" Odin asked with an odd expression on his face.

"A gift from Loki for his daughter," Thor murmured. "Sophie is quite fond of butterflies."

Odin nodded, but he still seemed distracted, still bore that strange look. Frowning, the king said, "You were with Loki all through the night?" Baffled, Thor nodded. Odin pursed his lips. "Did he say anything to you about your mother or I?"

Thor hesitated. He didn't want to betray Loki's confidence or hurt his father, but…but Odin needed to know how his foster son felt about him. Yet if Thor's words encouraged his father to put even one foot wrong, it could cause irreparable damage to the already frayed bond between Odin and Loki. At last, Thor finally settled one, "He spoke of you both. I would wait until Thea comes to Asgard, Father, before you attempt to speak to Loki."

After a moment, Odin nodded. "Your mother says that Loki predicts the Bifröst could be repaired in a matter of days, if his calculations are correct."

He nodded. "I intend to tell Thea the same. I think it will help her. She is…grieved by Loki's absence. This news should lift her spirits."

"You're fond of her."

Thor frowned. "She is my sister. And she loves my brother."

Odin nodded thoughtfully, single blue eye distant. "I wonder if she doubts me as Loki does," the king murmured almost absently. "I hope that if it is so, I can change her opinion. She is the mother of my grandchild, after all. As for Loki…I wonder if it is even possible to change his mind about such things anymore." Then he seemed to shake himself out of his reverie. Smiling at Thor, he clapped his son on the shoulder. "Go, then, my son. Give your sister this glad news."

With a somewhat worried smile for his father, Thor headed for the Bifröst. But he had to wonder what his father was thinking. Would he try to sway his foster son's opinion about him? Try to heal the breach between them? Or would he step back, trying only to forge a bond with Sophie and Thea, unwilling to try for Loki again? That wouldn’t work; Thor knew that. The love between Loki and Thea would get in Odin's way. The All-Father had to know that he had to keep trying with the pseudo-Æsir if he was ever to have any sort of relationship with his granddaughter.

"I can tell from your face that you are thinking too much," Víðarr said as Thor approached. The prince dragged himself from his thoughts and focused on his brother. Today, not only was Víðarr waiting at the edge of the broken Rainbow Bridge, but so was Bellalyse.

Bellalyse, daughter of Ynġvï of the Vanir, was probably one of the most beautiful women Thor had ever seen in the whole of his eleven-odd centuries. Perhaps not quite as lovely as Freya, whom mortals had once worshipped as a goddess of love and beauty, but still beautiful. Her hair—which many of the women of court claimed was unfairly enchanted—hung nearly to her knees in a waterfall of burnished copper, with hints of auburn and antique gold. Though she wore it unbound, it never seemed to tangle. She had the pink-cheeked paleness of a mortal milkmaid, and hands that had seen their fair share of work, but Víðarr claimed her past as the daughter of a shepherd and farmer made it easier for him to teach her the basics of sword-work, since she already had more calluses and muscle than the daintier court beauties. She was a somewhat shy creature, but once she'd grown used to Thor and Víðarr's other brothers, she'd laughed and joked with them as if she'd known them all her life.

Thor knew she could do typical women's work—sewing, cooking, weaving, and the like—but that her passion was working with animals. And little wonder, for though Bellalyse had a great deal of innate seiðr, it came out in a rather unique way: she could understand the speech of beasts. At the moment, she was laughing cheerfully with a scarlet-breasted robin, which pecked industriously at the small bit of grain in her cupped hand. Víðarr went back to watching his young bride with a besotted expression on his face.

"And what says your robin today, my sister?" Thor asked Bellalyse as he drew near. The robin shot him a quick, nervous look with one bright, black eye before going back to the proffered grain, chirping occasionally.

Tossing back her hair, Bellalyse smiled at Thor. "He says it is easier to fly near the Bridge now. Something new has happened in the last hour; the air isn't so thick with frustration anymore. And he asks if I might bring him some barley tomorrow, because he's a little greedy-guts."

"But you will do it anyway, won't you, my älskling?" Víðarr asked, brushing his palm over the waterfall of her hair. She nodded.

"It's nesting season yet. The poor thing's been flown ragged by his lady-love, finding food for their babies; there's a cat nearby and she dares not leave the nest alone. I'm the only way he gets anything at all to eat." She cooed at the robin, who lifted his head and chirped back at her. Bellalyse made a little chirruping sound. The robin did a sort of hop-flutter and gobbled up the very last bit of grain. He cheeped at her, then flew away. She smiled. "He'll be back tomorrow." She focused her attention on the two men. Smoothing her hands over the skirt of her pale blue gown, she ventured, "Thor…are you going to see Loki's wife on Midgard?"

Thor couldn’t decide if he wanted to smile or curse. "Word travels quickly. I am."

Bellalyse laced her hands together. "When will you bring her to Asgard? You will bring her to Asgard, will you not?"

He nodded. "Of course. The moment the Bifröst is finished." He grinned at her. "You'll soon not be suffering for company aside from we few heathen men-folk, my dear sister. Does that please you?"

Her smile flashed, clear and bright as sunlight on water. "Yes. Not that I do not adore you scoundrels," she added, leaning against her husband and sliding both of her arms around one of his. "But it will be nice for the queen and me to have another girl in the family. Well, good luck to you both." She pressed a swift kiss to Víðarr's mouth and a ridiculous smile spread across the Asgardian prince's face. With another smile at Thor, Bellalyse added, "Take care, both of you."

"I will look after your husband, Sister," Thor said, clapping Víðarr on the shoulder. "You needn't fear for him. Come on, Brother. Stop staring after your pretty wife. She will be here when we get back. Come now, you need to concentrate, or we may end up arriving on Midgard with goat legs or webbed feet."

Víðarr shot him a quelling look. "I may not be a sorcerer, Thor, but I trust you have more faith in my seiðr skills than that."

.

This time, Víðarr brought them directly to the small copse of trees in Thea's neighborhood where the local children seemed to congregate. Careful to appear within the shadow of the oak and ash trees themselves instead of near the playground equipment, Thor had to take a moment to steady himself. Before his stomach could incite treason against him, Víðarr gave him another vial of mint tisane to swallow, which soothed his churning belly enough that he no longer feared being sick. Afterward, they made their way to Thea's house.

Unlike their previous visit, Coulson didn't answer the door. Instead, Thor found himself looking down at Cleo, Thea's youngest sister. She wore the blue denim trousers with straps that Thor vaguely recalled were known as overalls over a white shirt with quite a few multicolored handprints smeared across it. She tossed her wheat-blond hair over her shoulder and smiled.

"Hey, it's you guys. Is that hot captain with you? Oh. No, he's not. Oh, boo. Well, whatever, come on in." Opening the door wide to allow them entrance, she moved off down the hall, calling over her shoulder, "You guys here to talk to Thea?"

"Yes," Thor replied as he and Víðarr followed after the Midgardian maiden. "And to see Sophie, as well."

Cleo swiveled around, walking backward as she said, "Sophie's having her morning nap right now. You don't want her to miss that. She gets a little…yeah." Cleo grimaced. "You don't even wanna risk…yeah. No. Hang on. Thea! Hey, Thea! Theatre! Scientific theory! Theocracy!"

Thea poked her head around a corner, scowling, but her silvery blue eyes twinkled. "Hey, Cleopatra! It's pronounced 'thee-uh-tuh,' not 'thee-ate-err.'"

"I am not Cleopatra," Cleo replied with stiff dignity. She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Thor and Víðarr. "Your in-laws are here."

Thea's eyes lit up. "Thor! Víðarr! You're back!" She came out of what Thor realized was the kitchen, holding a dishcloth in one hand and a small, translucent, yellow—was it a cup?—in the other. Without a moment's hesitation, she went to Thor and hugged him. "What are you two doing here?" Then the light in her eyes dimmed and her cheeks paled as she asked, "What is it? What's happened? Is it Loki? Is he all right?"

Thor opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Cleo half-growled, half-sighed. "Ugh, for crying out loud, relax! They're not the Mafia. They're not going to hurt him. Calm down before you wake up the midgets. Ashley's napping, too, you know. Look, Thebes—see? Thor's got stuff for you. Look."

Víðarr raised an eyebrow at the two sisters. "Thebes?" He echoed.

A small smile flitted across Thea's face. "If it's got a thuh-sound at the beginning with a long E after it, Cleo puts it on the nickname list. So Loki's all right?"

"Loki is fine," Thor reassured her. "Better than he has been in some time, in fact. My father let him out of prison. He spent last night in his own chambers writing you these." He held out the two letters.

Her mouth fell open. Her hands shook as she reached for them. The very tips of her fingers ever so lightly brushed the edge of the thick, many-paged missive Loki had written to her before her hands jerked back in an almost frightened spasm. Her mouth closed. She swallowed. Her lips parted again, as if she would speak, but then she just pressed her lips together and kept silent. After several heartbeats, she took the letters from him. Blue eyes slowly traced the name Thea written in Loki's strong handwriting upon the topmost of the letters. Her bottom lip trembled.

Thor cleared his throat. The sound made Thea jump. Her eyes darted from her name addressed on the letter to Thor's face. Thor murmured, "Loki is afraid to believe you're alive. He read your letters and watched several of the recordings, but he is still afraid. I asked him what would help erase his doubts, and he said to give you a message."

She nodded. "Okay. What message?"

"He said to tell you that he is thinking of two things." Thor frowned fiercely, trying to remember his foster brother's exact words. "Two poems you loved. 'To Amarantha,' and…he said the second one was…your own poem? He said you would know which one he meant, and that you would give me something before I returned to Asgard."

Thea frowned as confusion spread across her face. "Give you something? What…" Then her face cleared. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. "'To Amarantha.' Oh, duh. I feel dumb now." Thor's brows rose in silent question. "It's in the poem. 'To Amarantha' is a love poem Lovelace wrote to his sweetheart about how much he loved her hair. He wants a lock of my hair."

Cleo made a noise. "What? Why? Ew. That's kinda weird."

Her sister rolled her eyes at the maiden. "If you paid attention in history class, you would know that a lock of a girl's hair, tied with a ribbon, is considered a token of love in a lot of cultures—including among the Norse. And my poem…it's another Lovelace piece. Loki thought it fit our situation. 'To Althea from Prison.' Pretty fitting, huh? I used to read to him when…when the Chitauri had us. He told you that, didn't he?" She asked. Thor nodded. "I read him all my favorites, including that one." She nodded slowly, lips pursed in thought. "I know how to get rid of his doubts. Or most of them. I don't think anything will get rid of them all except seeing me." Her eyes flashed to Thor's face. "How long before I can see him? Do you know? Did you convince him to help with the Bifröst repairs?"

Thor nodded, smiling, because here at last was good news he could give her. "I convinced him. He has already started, and he says if all goes according to his calculations, the Rainbow Bridge will be repaired in four days."

Thea's eyes widened. "Four…four days? Four days?" She let out a cry of utter joy and threw her arms around Thor's neck. He returned the embrace as she cried, "Four days, just four days, I can see him in just four days!" She drew back, wiping at her eyes. "Four days?" He nodded again. She laughed. "Just four days. Oh, that's fantastic. I thought it would be weeks, months even. But four days…I'm so happy. Ohmigawsh…I'm gonna cry. I can't believe it!"

In truth, neither could Thor. Not really. It seemed too good to be true, that in a mere four days, the Bifröst would be repaired. And once Loki was reunited with his wife and child, the crown prince could return to Jane. He could bring her to Asgard. Introduce her to his parents, his brothers. To Thea and Bellalyse. And then…well, he would have to wait and see, but he planned to…at least, he hoped to…

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Thea said abruptly, jolting Thor from his thoughts. "I don't mean to be rude. Come have a seat. Um…Sophie and Ashley are going to wake up from their naps soon, and it's my turn to do the snacks since Joie and my mom are out running errands, so I have to stay in the kitchen. But you guys can sit down in the dining room if you want."

Cleo shot her hand up in the air. "Um, I got a question. What's with the stuffed animal?"

"What stuffed animal?" Thea asked, then noticed the butterfly Thor carried tucked under his arm. "Oh. I was so focused on the letters…and I haven’t had much sleep lately. Um…yeah, what's with the stuffed animal?"

The crown prince held it out to his sister-in-law. "It is a gift for Sophie. Loki made it last night."

"Oh, wow," Thea whispered, taking the toy. Her touch jostled the butterfly's wings, making the myriad of pastel colors shift and shimmer like light singing across abalone shell, only brighter. Thea stared at the wings. "He always makes the most wonderful things with his seiðr. This is wonderful. She'll love it. She loves butterflies and colorful things. She'll love this. Uh…come into the kitchen, have a seat. Are you guys hungry? Thirsty?"

Thor and Víðarr turned down the offer, taking seats at the wooden dining room table as Thea placed the letters and butterfly on the kitchen counter next to a stack of what looked like more letters from other people. Cleo left them, saying she had something called "homework" to do.

Thea moved to the tall, white ice-chest known as a "refrigerator." Opening it, she pulled out a small glass bottle full of brown liquid. When she unscrewed the cap, and a fruity scent filled the dining area, Thor realized it was apple juice. Thea carefully poured it into the yellow cup-looking object she'd been holding earlier, filling it two-thirds of the way. Next she added water, filling the cup the rest of the way, before screwing on the dove-gray lid. She then put the same mixture into a small green cup that didn’t seem to need a lid.

"What is that?" Víðarr asked, gesturing to the yellow cup.

"A sippy-cup," Thea replied as she went to a wooden box on the counter and withdrew a loaf of bread. "So Sophie doesn't spill when she's drinking. It's sort of the transition for little kids between a bottle and a regular cup. I cut her juice with some water so she's not sucking down so much sugar. She gets crazy if she has too much sugar."

"Loki was like that," Thor recalled suddenly. Noticing Thea's expression, he smiled and added, "Once when we were boys—barely knee-high to Father—we helped Tyr sneak one of Mother's special cakes out of the kitchen. We split it between the three of us, but even so…Loki could not sit still after that. Father didn’t know what to do with him. Or with me, for that matter." He laughed, remembering. "We ran through the halls like wild animals for awhile before Father made us each sit completely still in chairs facing each other. Then Loki started making faces at me."

Thea laughed as she took slices of bread and laid them on two plates—one green, one yellow—on the counter. Next she went into the fridge and pulled out two jars—one filled with what appeared to be apricot preserves, and one filled with brown…was that cake frosting? Thea asked, "Then what happened?"

"I made faces back," Thor replied. "And we kept making faces. It riled us both up so match we could not have held still if we'd tried. It was like having toads in our shirts. We have done that before," he added, seeing Thea's baffled expression. "I do not remember why we did that…but I remember we did, because a few of the toads somehow ended up in Mother's sewing room. Anyway, so we squirmed and laughed—quietly, so Father wouldn't notice, though of course he did. Finally he told us to go outside and run around the stables until our legs got tired because we were making him tired just watching us." Seeing Thea spreading what appeared to be chocolate frosting on a slice of bread, Thor asked, "What is that?"

"Nutella," Thea said. "Chocolate-hazelnut spread. It's made with Splenda, though, so it's low in sugar to prevent the kids from going nuts. Sophie's allowed to have it on Fridays if she behaves all week. Every day is a special sandwich day, according to Ashley, and Sophie agrees. Sunday is plum preserve day for some reason. Monday is tomato day, Tuesday is peanut butter and banana day, Wednesday is strawberry jam day, Thursday is peanut butter and honey day, today is Nutella and apricot jam day, and tomorrow is apple butter day.

"We let them get away with it since they don't throw tantrums or anything. We just started noticing a pattern when we would ask them what they wanted for snack, and finally my mom mentioned that they always asked for the same thing on the same day, so Ashley explained her 'schedule.' And Sophie just stood next to her going, 'Ya. Ya. Ya.' They were really polite and cute about it, so we just gave them their way. It was the weirdest thing, but it didn't hurt anyone, so why not?" Having finished the two sandwiches, she licked the dull knife clean of Nutella, then added the apricot jam to the sandwiches with a spoon. "I personally prefer apple butter. It's so good."

Thor watched his brother's wife quickly and efficiently cut each sandwich into four little squares, four to a plate, before adding two tiny bunches of green grapes and a half-dozen little carrots to the snacks as well. Lastly, she added half a stick of white cheese to each plate. Thor had let her do all of this on her own because he was fairly graceless in a kitchen and did not wish to get in her way. But he did carry the plates to the table for Thea while she carried the green cup and the sippy-cup.

"It's ten-thirty," she said, glancing at the clock. "I need to go wake the girls up…" Thea trailed off as a puzzled expression crossed her face. Her head jerked around and she focused on the staircase that led to the second floor. A wooden gate stretched across the bottom of the staircase. During their last visit, Thea had explained that the safety gates at the top and bottom of the stairs kept Sophie from climbing them and possibly getting hurt. Now Thea took a step toward the stairs. Her brows furrowed. She closed her eyes, touching one hand to her temple.

Her eyes snapped open.

"No—" She started to say, when from the second floor of the house came the sound of two little girls screaming. Without a word, Thea dashed around the kitchen counter, hopped over the safety gate, and raced up the stairs. Thor and Víðarr followed close behind.