Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first evening was misty and quite cold, but despite that, Donovan felt that the whole idea of a sudden vacation in the north was already turning out to be a success. His nieces were wonderful kids, but very noisy sometimes, and Texas was unusually hot this year, so being completely alone here, by the cool lake in the depths of the woods somewhere on the border between Manitoba and Saskatchewan, was a blessing.

He ended up here by accident: he flew here with his boss to discuss a possible big deal on a batch of used logging equipment in a nearby town (how his boss was constantly coming up with these kind of deals all over North America - Donovan didn't know, but he was as always impressed). They made good progress, the boss was pleased with him, and even mentioned thinking about launching a new network of powersports vehicle centers somewhere in the Midwest and wanted Donovan to start diving into it in a couple of months. Was he ready to move to Illinois or Ohio for a while? Don laughed and said he was hooked on “powersports” already, and the boss let him go on a long-planned vacation.

On the way back to the airport, already anticipating two well-deserved lazy weeks, Don overheard a man at the next table complaining that his only guests this entire season had canceled their stay at his summer house and that he was willing to let anyone live there now and at half price. People, it seemed, were not very eager to come to this middle of nowhere. Donovan listened closely. The guy went on about all the advantages of his cottage, and when he mentioned a jet ski, Donovan was sold. With his trademark smile that had helped him more than once, he joined the conversation and soon exchanged a sum of money for keys and a map. All that remained to be done was to change the ticket and call his sister, and the next two weeks would be spent in quiet, tranquility, and solitude – and perhaps sometimes in a a diner in the nearby town.

The road with a brief stop at the supermarket took about forty-five minutes, so soon he was at the place. The house looked neat. He had groceries enough for the first few days, a book about the Duke of Orléans in his backpack, and a jet ski in the garage, which – he checked – started smoothly. Great.

First, he lit the fireplace and went to cook some pasta. He wasn't very skilled at cooking - there were exactly four dishes that he could cook decently, and he didn't even touch all the other recipes. He liked consistency – well, it didn't bother him. When he occasionally craved a culinary adventure, he would go to a cafe and eat something exotic, like a piece of key lime pie.

It was getting cold outside, and his little fire quickly went out. He pulled on his socks and a sweater, grabbed a plate, and settled in with his late dinner on the couch. He didn't feel like reading or watching TV, the long day had worn him out. He even considered the idea of leaving the plate on the floor and falling asleep right here on the couch. Tomorrow, everything could wait until tomorrow.

He was half through this plan when a loud noise and a strong splash broke the silence. It sounded like water had splashed right onto the door. Startled from half-sleep, Don fell off the couch and quickly got up with a pounding heart. He cautiously went to the front door and heard someone swearing outside. The language was unfamiliar.

For the first time, Don had thought that being in the middle of nowhere all alone might not be such a great idea, but he pushed that aside. He wasn't afraid of drunks – usually, they started pouring their hearts out to him after five minutes of talking, and there wasn't much to take from him here anyway. And if there was, they could take it. He clicked the lock, opened the door, stepped out, and looked around.

At first, he couldn't see anything, though the moon was bright. But he could hear it: in the middle of the lake, there were ragged breaths and quiet moans.

"Hey!"

The sounds stopped, and Donovan jumped off the porch to the shore and walked to the water's edge. He squinted, and a shiver ran through him – a few meters from the shore, something dark and enormous was moving in the water.

"Who are you? You okay? Do you need help?"

"I... would be grateful," came the polite response.

"Oh," Don smiled. "You startled me! Wait just a moment!"

He hurried to the garage, and soon an engine roared in the quiet.

"Did you fall from the sky or something?" he shouted over the noise as he approached. "Seriously, at first, I thought..." But as he drew closer, he stumbled and fell silent.

The first thing he saw was the raised markings on the blue forehead, then the eyes, red from edge to edge. At first, he thought it might be a prank or someone dressed up, but then he realized the size of this face - almost three times larger than his, and he was completely taken aback. Swallowing a couple of times, he finally asked:

"So... where does it hurt?"

The giant, who had been looking at him with a smirk, seemed slightly surprised.

"Um, it’s... my leg. I think I broke it."

"Oh, that's not good, buddy. It's gonna be tough getting you out...”

"If you bring me a long stick and some ropes, I can make it to the shore, and then I’ll figure out what to do with it."

"A stick, right. But aren’t you freezing out there?"

"Oh, the water is just fine, don't you worry."

Don returned to the shore and rushed into the shed. A stick, a stick. A shovel, maybe? No, the handle was too short. A ladder! Grabbing a ladder and a couple of ropes, he climbed back onto the jet ski and returned to his... guest.

The giant politely thanked Don. He had a kind of British accent, but something sounded a bit off, maybe the way he stretched his vowels or the slightly offbeat rhythm of his speech. He started fixing his leg, and once done, he stood up, towering over Don. Don tilted his head back. This blue-skinned guy was at least twice his height. He was also remarkably built and dressed in a loincloth. Or a chainmail. Whatever it was. Donovan realized he was staring and blushed. The giant grinned.

"Nothing to be shy about," he reassured Don. "I am a god, and naturally look godlike."

Don took a moment to absorb the audacity of this and then burst into laughter.

"Okay, okay. You do look good, oh deity. How about we get you out of this water, eh?"

And the giant limped to the shore. There he sat down and began to examine his leg. Don, turning off the jet ski, stood next to him and stared wide-eyed because the giant's hands suddenly lit up with green light. After holding his hands over the fracture for a few seconds, the giant grinned:

“That’s better. It'll take a couple more days to heal, but I can walk now.”

“That is the coolest thing that I’ve ever seen, man,” Don said sincerely. “So are you kind of a wizard, or is it normal for… your people? Who are your people, by the way?”

“My magic is unique across the Realms, little Midgardian”, said the giant.

“You can call me Don.”

“If I must.”

“Oh come on, nothing’s wrong with the name Don,” Don laughed. “What’s yours?”

“I am Loki, son of Laufey. And my people are Jötnar, the most ancient and the strongest people of all realms.”

“Okay, so you are Jötnar…”

“Jötunn. Singular.”

“Right, sorry, so you are Loki, a Jötunn, and these realms you keep mentioning are..?”

“I always tend to forget how ignorant Midgardians are.”

“Yes, yes, very ignorant. Wait…. Loki? Wait, we used to have a god with this name here! Well, not “here” here, but you know. On Earth. Or I guess you call it Midgard?”

“So you know me already.”

Don stared at him, speechless for a second.

“No way!”

The giant gave him a fancy bow.

“The Loki? You are The Loki? An actual god right in my lake?”

“That’s me.”

“It kind of makes my day, even if you are lying.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Don waved it off with a smile.

"Do you want some tea? I was sleeping, but I could find some snacks. You won't fit into the house, but I'll bring everything here..."

Loki snorted and shrank by half. He was still taller than Don, still blue, and still seemed like a hallucination, but at least not as wildly insane one.

"Yeah," Don nodded. "Yeah. Well, let's go then."

***

They sat in the kitchen, sipping tea and munching on chips. Well, Don was munching. He was also still trying to accept the fact that he was sitting at the same table with an extraterrestrial being (Loki had told him a bit about the Realms), supposedly an ancient Scandinavian god, and the fact that ancient Scandinavian gods, tall and handsome ones with blue skin, could complain like three-year-olds ("Nornorna, how do you eat this? It’s disgusting").

Suddenly, Loki stopped his whining and gave a mischievous smile.

“You have an interesting face, little Midgardian.”

“It’s Don. At least something is to your liking,” Don mumbled under his breath, good-naturedly, though.

“My taste is good, that’s all.”

“Hah. So what’s unusual? My nose or my hair? Not many blondes on Jötunheim?”

“None. My people usually don’t have hair at all. But there are many Asgardiands that look just like you. No, what I meant is… you have this look of amused curiosity. Constantly.”

“I am curious and amused. Constantly for the whole time of the last thirty minutes.”

“And you’re very calm for someone who didn’t know about other realms half an hour ago.”

“Oh, I am barely holding up, don’t you worry. Will probably scream in my pillow later.”

“But will you?”

“Sure I will.”

“I am starting to suspect there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Don laughed:

“No, I am seriously very impressed. And I am just an ordinary... Earthling. I sell cars.”

“So you are a merchant.”

“More like a merchant’s helper, I guess.”

“A sales clerk. Now it makes sense why you're so friendly.”

“Hey, that’s just my natural charm! Selling cars is just what I do, because I was too dumb to go to college when I had a chance, and now it’s kinda late.”

“What would you like to learn?”

“History, I guess. Always liked to read history books. The stuff’s a bit gloomy, but… interesting.”

“But how old are you to say it’s too late?”

“It’s probably nothing compared to your age, oh ancient one. Thirty-two. ”

“Thirty-two! Oh, you Midgardians are worse than butterflies. At least you cannot have an actual conversation with a butterfly that dies at the end of the day.”

“Oh, poetic. But depressing. I’m still young, you know!”

“So still young or too late, which one is it?”

“Hah.” Don scratched the back of his head. “I guess, too young to die, too old for big changes. You’re supposed to be settled already at my age, you know.”

“Jötnar are mostly supposed to be married and settled at one thousand and four or five hundred.”

“Then that would be my jötnar... jötunn age. How old are you?”

“One thousand and fifty-three.”

“Oh, sweet child. That explains things.”

“I beg your pardon…”

“Don’t, I’m giving it to you freely.”

“… I am of age and full capacity for at least nine hundred years by now! And your jokes are truly pathetic.”

“They are, aren’t they? So you would be in your early twenties if you were a Midgardian.”

“I guess so.”

“A fully capable and experienced adult.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They fell silent and looked at each other, and laughed at the same time.

“One last question before I fall asleep,” said Don. “How the hell did you get in my lake?”

“I was heading home from my friend’s party – he’s an Asgardian – and I probably took the wrong turn, then missed a step and fell. Too much mead. And, mind you, this does not contradict our previous conclusion! Anyone could misstep.”

Don laughed.

“Sure they can. Fell from where... - no, don’t answer that. I am going to bed right this moment. There is another bedroom on the second floor, you can take it if you’re staying.”

“I am,” said Loki, and their first evening came to an end.

***

On the next day, Loki was still limping quite a lot, and Don insisted that he rest his leg. Loki looked at him with amusement but didn't object. While Don pulled out lounge chairs from the garage and searched for a grill, Loki talked non-stop about all and everything.

He seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice.

Don learned that Loki had two brothers, an older one named Helblindi and a younger one named Býleistr. They all lived in the capital of Jotunheim, Utgard. As far as Don could understand, their family belonged to the upper class and traveled a lot across the Realms. Don even attempted to sketch a schematic map of the Realms to keep up with the story, but Loki took the paper, swiftly crossed out everything, did it all over again and added a couple of drawings with a firm hand. Beautiful ones. Now that's a noble upbringing to you. It turned out that Jotunheim, like Midgard-Earth, was in the middle ("You see, it's not that hard to miss a turn!"), Asgard was on top, a few more realms on the sides and below, all connected by a bridge.

“You asked me what I’d fallen from,” said Loki. “It was this, the bridge between the Realms. The main road. Bifröst is its name, Æsir – Asgardians – built it. And control it. But there are other ways,” and Loki smiled slyly.

I bet you know all of them, thought Don. He got the impression that Loki was one of those kids of wealthy families who are bored to their guts and seize any opportunity to have a bit of fun. A bit of a spoiled scion, his guest was.

“How will you get home? Won’t people be looking for you?”

“I doubt it. They're pretty used to me taking off now and then. As long as I show up for the crucial meetings – and the next one isn't until next month – I get some blissful solo time. Now, at least. It did take a while to get everyone on the same page. There could be a fun raid into the mountains… but they'll figure out how to get in touch if anything comes up.”

“Fun raid into?.. Okay, never mind.”

Don noticed that despite all the chatter, Loki revealed very little about himself: who he is, what he does, and what he likes. By the end of the day, Don knew more about Loki's Asgardian friends and his brothers than about Loki himself. And whenever Don tried to steer the conversation in that direction, Loki quickly changed the subject.

But he was a good company anyway. And fascinating to listen to, with his posh accent and long turns of phrases, and animated face.

In the evening, Loki accused him of being secretive.

"You haven't said a word about yourself all day."

“You didn’t ask! And there isn’t much to say anyway, you know the most of it. I sell cars. I am…” He stopped to think about what region is best to narrow to. “… an American. I live alone, well, right now my sister has moved in with me, she’s having a bit of a hard time right now, with the girls. Can’t afford rent.”

He looked at Loki with a smirk.

"I bet it sounds completely alien to you."

Loki shrugged.

“Anyway. Our parents are long gone. We had a brother, right in between us – younger than me, older than her. He died. What else… I have friends, and my job, and I ride my bike everywhere, and I read books. That’s kind of it. Very ordinary.”

“Awfully boring,” agreed Loki, but his eyes were soft.

***

“There is something I cannot quite grasp. Are you rich?”

They sat on the jetty. It was the middle of the third day.

“What? Not at all. I save up all year for a couple of weeks of vacation. This time I got lucky, my boss covered the tickets.”

“What do you mean by “vacation?”

“Vacation. Time to relax a bit. Don't you take a break in Jotunheim?”

“We have our fun - at feasts, for example. But I... we… nobles can afford to do so. I can hardly imagine a clerk taking two weeks off. Wouldn't your master fire you? Although things have changed remarkably fast in your realm in the last couple of centuries.”

“Well, yeah, that's probably a recent thing. Definitely in the last century. The serfs have become lazy,” he said with a laugh. “Can you skip stones?”

He jumped to the ground to pick up some pebbles and sent one skipping six times before it sank. Not bad. He offered a pebble to Loki.

Loki took aim and sent the pebble skipping, it kept bouncing farther and farther until it disappeared somewhere in the middle of the lake.

“Wow. Okay, no sports competitions with you from now on.”

“There is hardly anything you could successfully compete with me in, you feeble thing.”

“That’s probably true,” agreed Don easily, though he did not consider himself particularly weak or small. But other people being better at something never bothered him, actual gods being better bothered him even less. “Hey, wanna try something cool? You’re just the right size for it now.”

Loki opened his mouth to say something, then clearly decided against it.

“This beauty is called a jet ski,” said Don, going to the watercraft in question. “Well, this one is actually a Sea-Doo; we’re in Canada, after all, but these are all brand names. A personal watercraft is the proper term, but no one says that. They've been an absolute craze for the last decade – well, for people who are into watersports.”

“That would be you, I suppose.”

“Yeah… Actually, now that I think about it, the first one appeared at the end of the sixties, but you know, it wasn't so perfect back then. But now! I mean, I love bikes, but nothing can compare with being on the water, wind in your face, splashes of water, the depth right under your feet…”

“So that’s what makes you tick. The first time I hear you ranting and it’s about a water chariot.”

“What can I say, they are fun!” Don climbed onto the jet-ski and gestured behind himself. “Hop on!”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Oh, come on, Loki!”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t be shy, blueberry, no one can see you. Even I won’t see you; you’ll be sitting behind me.”

"That... is something to be taken into consideration," Loki suddenly grinned and slid onto the seat.

Don felt Loki move closer, pressing against his back, chin resting on the top of his head, and wrapping him from both sides.

Don felt himself blush and cleared his throat.

"Okay, let’s go then," he said unsteadily and started the engine.

Everything was just as he remembered – the splashes on his face, the joy, and the feeling of complete freedom and being in control – only this time, it wasn't a cute girl he had just met at the bar pressed against him, but a six feet tall (and that’s the short version), smug and quite straightforward blue scamp with muscles of iron. Topless, by the way. Not that he minded; it felt nice. Loki felt nice.

Dangerously nice, even.

He shook his head. Is he really seriously considering… what? A fling? A one-night stand with a one-thousand-year-old boy from another planet? A noble?

Was that how the occasional lovers of Monsieur felt in their time or has he read too much of his book?

He chuckled.

Usually, he was all for a casual thing, but this time, strangely, he felt as if he’d lose something valuable that way. Something that is not that easy to be cast aside because of a colossal mismatch.

Something like a friendship, maybe.

“What’s so funny?” Shouted Loki over the noise.

“Never mind. Let’s stop here for a sec!”

He stopped the jet-ski in the middle of the lake. The sudden silence fell around them, and they listened to it for a while.

“Do you have anything like jet skis on Jötunheim?” Asked Don.

“Oh no. Jötunheim is frozen all year long. Ice mountains, ice fields, ice gorges all around. I myself am icy cold, you’d be freezing now if not for my magic.”

“Really?” Don turned to him in surprise. “Can you turn it off just for a second?”

“No. You’d be hurt, little butterfly,” said Loki, and Don rolled his eyes. “But there is something I can show you. We have… this.”

He waved his hand, and Don suddenly felt their jet-ski rising. He glanced down: they were right on top of a gigantic lump of ice that was rapidly surging from the water depths. Soon it felt like they were getting higher than any roller coaster.

“Maybe that’s enough,” said Don.

“Don’t fear, I’m holding you tight,” said Loki, but the lump stopped rising.

“I can feel that, but…”

“Look.”

The water in front of them was rising up and freezing before his eyes, forming an impossibly steep slope.

"Okay. Okay. A huge ice slide. Please don’t tell me we’re going down this thing."

"Oh, but we so are."

"Loki, are you sure I’ll survive this? Seriously. Not a magical jötunn, remember?"

"There shall not a hair of your head perish."

"Is this Bible? Is this blasphemy?"

"No blasphemy, I am a god, remember. And how am I more literate in the culture of your realm?"

"You were just around when this particular piece of culture was still fresh news, you relic."

"Are you ready to go or are you not?"

"Am not, will never be. It’s not even tested. I mean, such a thing should undergo like a three-month trial first."

Loki chuckled, then with one hand, he gripped him tighter, and with the other, he took hold of the jet ski's handlebars. Don also clung to the handlebars with one hand and held onto Loki's hand with the other.

The slide didn’t have any sideboards and looked sleek and very deadly.

"I am very, very afraid right now."

"It will be fun, you’ll see. Wind on your face, height under your feet, exactly how you love it," said Loki, then leaned over to Don’s ear, whispered: “One, two, three...” and pushed off.

"Loki!!"

This was hands down the most dizzying downhill in Donovan’s life. He may have screamed. He may have not stopped screaming the whole way down. He may have grinned, too. At some point, he opened his eyes and saw the world – the lake, the forest, the sunset - rushing towards him. So bright.

Loki was laughing like a maniac.

When they stopped at the further end of the lake, Don hurriedly got off the jet ski to the shore and tried to catch his breath.

"You complete moron," he gasped, trying to stop his laughter. "You crazy motherfucker!"

Loki jumped on the shore with his eyes shining.

"Did I or did I not tell you it’d be fun?"

"You did, you did, you lunatic. Most fun I had since high school. Ever, maybe!"

Loki was glowing, crimson eyes filled with laughter. Behind him, the ice was melting back into the water like an enormous glistening illusion lit by the setting sun. Don’s heart almost stopped beating for a moment.

"Beautiful," he said softly, captivated.

Loki took a step towards him, and Don abruptly shook his head.

"Let’s head back? It’s almost dark," and he smiled at Loki.

"Okay," said Loki quietly. "Shall I drive?"

On the way back across the lake, Don tried to shake himself out of this state of floaty numbness, but there was honestly no way to do it while hugging Loki’s bare back.

At home, they lit a little fire in the fireplace. Then they ate some leftovers. They almost didn’t speak at all, and there was not a tension but this free-floating feeling in the air, stretching further and further. And then Loki went to the shower, and Don meant to wait for him – to wait for something vaguely taking shape, but as he was staring into the fire, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and soon he slipped into a quiet dream and didn’t wake up when somebody gently picked him up and carried him away.

****

The next morning, Don woke up in his bed, covered with a blanket, and spent a few minutes trying to figure out what was going on. When he realized this, he felt a rush of fondness. Then he went downstairs and made breakfast.

Loki woke up around noon. Donovan, lying on the couch with his book, silently watched as Loki went outside, came back in, ate the huge pan of scrambled eggs and almost an entire loaf of bread left for him, then sat in the armchair and stared at him.

Don smiled at him and continued reading.

After ten minutes of staring, Loki conjured a small ball and threw it right at Don. Don rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” Loki said quietly.

“What is it?"

“It’s boring. And your food is very uninspiring”.

Don smiled.

“Well, I didn't expect to entertain guests, you know. Will you be heading home then?”

“What? No!” Loki said indignantly.

He sat on the edge of the couch.

“Let's do something interesting,” he suggested.

Don scratched his head.

“We could go to the nearby town for a walk. Pretend you're a cosplayer.”

“Not what I had in mind. What is a cosplayer?”

“It's like someone in a costume for a party?”

“Ah, you’re worrying about the color,” Loki waved his hand. “How do you think I've been coming to Midgard all this time?”

He shook his head, a shiver ran down his body, and suddenly, a quite earthly-looking man stood before Don: dark hair, greenish eyes, pale skin. Don looked at him attentively. A human face was easier to read, the gaze not distracted by the blueness and threatening redness. Loki looked youthful, self-assured, intelligent, and sharp.

“Well? How do I look?”

“Very smart. Some jeans and a T-shirt too, please.”

Loki sighed heavily, and instead of his usual loincloth aka chainmail, he now wore a fancy suit and shoes.

“Not the best thing to wear for a small town, but it'll do,” nodded Don. “Make sure not to kill anyone, in case their tongue is too loose.”

Loki mimicked him soundlessly and agreed:

“I listen and obey, oh the most boring guide in all Nine Realms. I could go home at any moment, you know. All this is not exactly entertaining.”

“Well, I’d be missing you so much then,” Don said absentmindedly, tying his sneakers. He straightened up, walked to the door, and grabbed the keys. “Shoo,” he said fondly and gestured for Loki to get out.

Loki snorted and did as he was told.

The road was going to take half an hour. Don put on some Willie Nelson album and sang along. Loki didn’t sing, of course, but seemed very amused.

“If there is anything you are exceptionally good at, singing is certainly not that.”

“I just kind of hang here above… I don’t think there is anything I am exceptionally good at. I can make a decent pecan pie. Does it count?”

“I have to taste it before I can render any verdict.”

“Are you exceptionally good at anything?”

“I tend to become an expert in anything I put my mind to.”

“Of course.”

“Magic. Academic studies. Daggers. Dancing.”

“I can believe in three of these things, but you won’t convince me you didn’t skip lessons whenever you could at school.”

“I didn’t go to school; I had tutors.”

“Posh. And I bet you escaped them at every available opportunity.”

Loki just smiled.

“Sometimes.”

“Knew it.”

They drove in silence for a minute.

“Does it bother you to be so short?”

Loki suddenly jerked and looked at him, surprised and angry.

“What exactly did I say just now?" asked Don.

Loki watched him intensely for a couple of seconds, then laughed.

"You mean... my disguise here at your place."

He suddenly turned back to blue.

"Yes? What else could I mean?"

"Nothing." Loki didn’t look at him.

Don pulled over right in the middle of the forest.

"You're okay? I'm sorry if I hit something raw, honestly didn't mean to."

Loki waved it off.

"It's just..."

"Yeah?"

"It's not very widely known. Not known at all."

Loki seemed troubled, and Don nudged him softly.

"I won't tell."

“Oh Nornorna. Well if you must know, my height right now is… is my natural height. I am a… runt if you must. I was told, when I was born they even wanted to… Doesn’t matter. My father asked a witch to give me a disguise, so I would be of the same height as other children. When I learned my magic, I started to maintain the spells myself."

Don could bet the people who thought a raid was a nice way of having fun weren’t particularly compassionate to a baby like this. A disguise was probably the lesser of two evils. A mercy. His heart felt heavy for Loki. He had to tread carefully, he knew.

“Must be exhausting," he said softly.

“Not much, it’s just a tiny bit of constant pressure," Loki smiled a bit. "It feels nice here, to let it all just… fade away for a while. Ease up."

“Yeah… I’m sorry I brought it all up. For what it’s worth, I think you are of a perfect height. And one of the most good-looking guys I know."

“But of course I am," said Loki with an air of arrogance. But Don could see he was calming down.

They sat in silence.

“How’s that for an idea," said Don. "Screw the town, we get a whole pack of pecans in the nearest shop and head back. I’ll make that pie."

“I don’t want to help in the kitchen."

“I’m not letting you help in the kitchen. Your blue ass is permanently assigned to that sofa."

“Deal."

Later, of course, Loki did not stay long on the sofa. He wasn’t much of a help either (“How come that in the whole one thousand years long life you’ve never ever cooked something?!” - “Never felt the need.” - “Oh come on!”), but they had fun, at least. And the pie was good.

***

After that conversation in the car, Loki became more open and somehow less flirty at the same time. The days lazily stretched, they watched movies, they rode the jet ski, Loki showed off his magic skills and watched him, watched him. Don wasn’t sure anyone ever paid him as much intense attention as now. Kind of made him feel inadequate - he didn’t have any hidden depths to show for it, but he let it flow through him anyway.

A few days later he cut his finger in the kitchen.

“Ouch!"

He covered the cut with a paper towel and started to look for band-aids, but Loki stopped him, taking his hands. A tiny swirl of green fog covered his palm and faded away, and the cut wasn’t there anymore.

“Thanks. I manage to forget about your magic every time. Boggles my mind, honestly," said Don, looking up at Loki and smiling.

And Loki suddenly moved.

He clasped Don’s face in both hands, with the same intense look in his eyes, and kissed him, and it took just a second before Don threw any kind of caution and rational thoughts to the wind and kissed him back, because finally, finally he had Loki so solid under his hands, and he could feel Loki’s heart beating, and hear the sound of his breath and his gasps and his soft moans, and couldn’t get enough of it all.

They stopped to take a breath, and Loki touched Don’s forehead with his own, smiling. Don searched for words, but couldn’t find any, just smiled back. He caressed Loki’s cheek and reached for him again, not a thought in his head, but suddenly there was a strange tinkling sound from outside, and Loki froze, alert and sharp.

Don shook himself and looked behind his shoulder.

“What was that?"

Loki moved past him to the door.

“A rather bad timing."

Don could wholeheartedly agree. He rushed outside after Loki.

The tinkling came from up above. Don glanced up and for a moment could not understand what he was looking at. A rainbow of sorts? It stretched right above them, very close, and seemed solid as ice.

Oh. That must be Bifrost, suddenly understood Don.

“Wow," he whispered, watching something flying down to them from the bridge. As it drew closer, he could see it was a gigantic white bird.

“A message from my father," said Loki with concern in his voice.

Don looked at him and did a double take – Loki was suddenly back to his big size, the whole twelve feet tall.

The bird came to Loki, he took a scroll from its talons and read it, and relaxed a bit.

“He doesn’t elaborate, but from the way he worded this, I don’t think it’s something grave. Though he does require my presence at once. I must go."

“Okay," said Don.

Well, this is it, he thought. He had hoped for a bit longer.

Loki glanced at him with a sharp look in his eye and said very seriously:

“I’m coming back after I find out what it is. I am not gone for good."

“I’ll leave this place in a few days."

“I know. A couple of weeks of vacation, I remember. But it wouldn’t take that long. I have a hunch about what it must be. I’ll talk to my father and come back immediately, maybe even tonight."

“Okay, okay," tonight sounded good, thought Don. Unrealistic, but what does he know? "That would be great. I’ll make a pizza or something."

Loki knelt down on one knee.

“I’m coming back. Stay safe, fiðrildi," he said. "Don’t fall off that thing you definitely have too many names for."

“The jet-ski. And what was that? Feethrilty?"

Loki grinned.

“You have a horrible accent, litla minn."

“I’m not little, you’re just huge."

“Ástin mín then," whispered Loki theatrically.

“No idea what it means,” laughed Don.

Loki was smiling too, and Don shook his head and patted him on the arm. It was so strange to look at a familiar face gotten so big. He could see black spots in the crimson eyes.

Loki very carefully lifted his hand and gently touched Don's hair, his face.

"Go, big blueberry," said Don, his heart still not calming down after the kiss. "The sooner you go, the sooner you come back."

Loki nodded, cast a final glance at him, pushed off from Earth, and soared up like a blue rocket with the bird by his side, flying higher and higher until he reached the rainbow bridge and disappeared with it.

Don watched him go, tilting his head back until his neck hurt. Then he turned and went into the house to have a cup of coffee and to wait.

He waited the next day too. And the next – kind of never stopped.

But Loki never returned before Don's departure. No big birds with letters came either. And Don's feelings about it, after some reflection, were a bit controversial.

He was, of course, sad, but all this – giant aliens, interstellar bridges, the fact that he, Donovan Waters, a car sales manager from Texas, in a matter of just a few days fell for a flirty blue guy from a faraway planet – was so incredible that he barely managed to stop bumping into corners by the time of his departure.

And seriously hoping for Loki's return would be foolish. Casually hopping to... random acquaintances on the other end - of what, by the way? the galaxy? the Universe? - was hardly the easiest thing to do.

Don never believed in promises, not because he suspected everyone of bad intent, but rather the opposite: he understood how anyone's situation could change at any moment, so why count on something ephemeral and then get disappointed and mad at innocent people?

In the end, sitting in the plane on the runway several days later, brushing away his whirls under the cap and pulling it down to sleep a bit, Don was more grateful than disappointed. He now had a precious secret memory, after all. And maybe, he thought, he now had enough strength to change something in his life.

What was that? "Still young or too late, which one is it?"

He left a note on the table in the house just in case, with his address, not really expecting anything.

He never found out that the hired cleaner threw away the note on the same day, just as he never found out that a sudden ice storm erupted a few days after his departure on a small piece of land on the border between Manitoba and Saskatchewan, although the locals gossiped about it for a long time after.

The ice storms returned the next summer, and the summer after that, and one more, and then stopped as if they had never been.

Donovan Waters never went to Canada again.

Chapter Text

Just as he thought, the only place in this town where they made proper pies was Billy's diner, which closed down a month ago when Billy had a heart attack. Don was generally an undemanding person, but what passed for key lime pie here was an abomination. Don swallowed another spoonful of pie and grimaced.

But still, aside from the lack of pies and the summer heat, Puente Antiguo was not a bad place. Since Don moved here four years ago, finding a job at a firm that didn't care about his bachelor's degree obtained at the age of thirty-eight, he had been content. The desert was beautiful, especially at night, under the stars. The Rio Grande Forest with its lakes was nearby too. Although he had somehow gradually lost his passion for water sports, every outing on the water felt like a trip down memory lane. But the mere opportunity to go there warmed his soul.

And most importantly, the people here were very friendly.

"A dreadful thing, this pie, isn't it?" whispered the bald man sitting next to him at the bar.

"I don't know how they managed to ruin such a simple recipe," Don whispered back, smiling warmly. "Don Waters, nice to meet you."

"Will Watts," the man replied. "But they have the best green chili here." He tapped his nearly empty plate. "And I mean, on the planet. In every world. I've checked. I come here specifically for that."

“Wow. I’d cheer to that.”

“Cheers!”

Watts took a sip of his beer.

"By the way, I know you a bit,” he said, “We're kind of colleagues, you and I. My condolences for your loss, I've heard about it."

"Excuse me?"

“Right, what am I saying; they are alive, they just can't get out. I wouldn't be upset if I were you; they actually can, just need to learn how. Tricky thing, that. By the way, the tree turned out beautiful."

"Sorry," Don laughed, "I don't understand you at all. Perhaps you're confusing me with someone else? I'm a paralegal at James&Ulfsson."

Watts slapped his forehead. "Of course, I see now! You just look so much like… someone else. My mistake. You're not usually in this place; there's no reason for you to be here, so I assumed you were him."

Don felt like he had completely lost the thread of the conversation.

"Don't mind it, Don. I'll be going, I guess," said Watts, waving his hand. "Nice to meet you, see you around next time I come for the chili!"

"See you around," Don repeated, puzzled, watching him depart.

Yes, the people were friendly, although eccentric. Don fitted in well here with his semi-reclusive, semi-hedonistic way of life. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like if he had chosen to stay at the car dealership. Perhaps he would have moved to Ohio to help with that new business, bought a house there, started a family or something.

It might have been nice to have someone close by. Probably. On the other hand, he had already grown accustomed to living alone, and every time he entered into new relationships, the struggle to maintain interest wore him down too quickly. The downside of having an intense magical love story - there barely was a story there, but still - in one’s past was that returning to a normal way of having a relationship afterward seemed just, well, dull.

On the bright side, his job was interesting. In college, he discovered in himself a few traits that now served him well: meticulousness, for one, and somewhat of an analytical mindset. He even started to turn into a bit of a workaholic. Even now he was sitting with a stack of work papers for some light reading.

He sat for a little while longer. It was already late, around eleven. The diner was at the city's exit onto the highway and was open 24/7, so there was no need to hurry, and the next day was Saturday. But he felt sleepy and was about to leave when he suddenly saw a familiar minibus pull up outside the cafe.

Jane and Darcy had an even busier schedule than he did, Don thought to himself and smiled. They were a recent addition to the town, doing some scientific research in the desert near the city. They had arrived about six months ago, and Don, with his usual curiosity, quickly got to know them and even befriended them. He had even joined them one night for an experiment in the desert because how could he pass up the opportunity to witness some real astrophysics in action?

He sheepishly brought up the topic of extraterrestrial civilizations then, not really wanting to be seen as a lunatic with a tinfoil hat on his head. But he was curious to know what the real scientists thought about it. Darcy went into a lengthy explanation, while Jane seemed strangely evasive. He got the impression that the idea of extraterrestrial intelligence didn't sound completely crazy to her. That was reassuring.

He wondered if they were just heading out to the desert now or if they were already on their way back.

The door swung open, and Jane and Darcy walked in, arguing about something.

"We don’t have time for this!"

"Jane, just grab a couple of sandwiches while I'm in the restroom, it won't take a minute!"

Don waved to them.

"Hi, ladies! Are you going out or coming back?"

"Hi, Don!" Jane smiled, but her face looked troubled. "We're in a hurry. Two sandwiches to go, please," she said to the cashier.

“Is something wrong? Do you need help?”

“No, no. We just need to hurry. While the trail is still fresh.”

Darcy emerged from the restroom.

“This exter’s trail is so hot that our scanner hasn't even started cooling down yet, Jane,” she said. “Like literally can’t touch it. Don't worry, we'll catch up.”

“Shush.”

Don froze.

“Exter - as in extraterrestrial?” He asked.

Jane smiled apologetically.

“Jane?” Don pushed on.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “Thank you!” She said to the cashier, taking the sandwiches, and headed for the exit, Darcy in tow.

Don hurried outside after them, his papers under his arm.

“Jane, wait!”

“Don, we’ve really got no time at all…”

“Take me with you. Please.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain later if you want. I just… I can’t miss it out. Please. I’ll help with anything you’ll need.”

“Come on, Jane,” said Darcy cheerfully. “Don’s a nice company, the more the merrier!”

“Please,” repeated Don.

Jane contemplated it for a second, then growled and gave in.

“Okay, but get in fast”, she said, already hurrying around the front of the minibus to her driver’s seat.

“Thanks,” he said sincerely, climbing inside.

The engine started.

“ETA ten hours,” said Darcy.

***

Thank whatever god there is that Darcy was so chatty. If there would be an awkward silence, Don would feel compelled to fill it with his own chatter. Instead, he was peacefully staring out of the window, where the moon was bright, just smiling when needed here and there. Eventually, Darcy fell asleep, and he was almost asleep too when Jane asked:

“So what’s the deal?”

Don startled, then briefly contemplated avoiding the question, but couldn’t find the reason to.

“I knew someone. He was… from out there,” he gestured to the sky outside. “Saw it with my own eyes. I don’t really know why I decided to go with you, but he was a nice guy and I kinda miss him.”

“We believe there could be thousands of civilizations in the proximity. The chances of this intruder being your friend are really not high”.

“I know, I’m not counting on it. He’d be sneaky about it, for one, without melting your devices. But I could… ask, I guess. Whether they’ve been to his world and so on”.

“You do realize that there are high chances they are hostile? Well, the chances are actually lowering now, the destruction of other observed planets started immediately after similar readings, and we’re now five hours in… But still too high”.

Of all the thoughts that came into his head when he heard about this extraterrestrial, not one was about danger or threat. It was slightly embarrassing. He mumbled something in reply.

“Could you tell me more about your friend’s world?” asked Jane.

“I don’t know much. They call it Jötunheim…”

“Sounds familiar. Like in Norse myths?”

“Exactly. It’s a frozen planet. No idea where it actually is. There is a kind of bridge portal that’s used as a road, I think?”

“That’s incredible. There is so much we could explore here… I’ll need to pick your brains about it. Of course, you also could be a complete lunatic, too, but I’ll risk it.”

Don chuckled.

“Fair point. I myself sometimes wonder. But that’s about the extent of my knowledge. I remember other planets' names, though…”

They talked for a while before Don began to drowse off, too.

It seemed he’d been sleeping just for five minutes or so when he suddenly woke up because the minibus had stopped. Don looked outside.

“Are we in Las Vegas?” He asked incredulously.

“It seems so,” said Jane.

It was nine in the morning, but they could hear the loud music outside. The streets were filled with dancing people.

“The bus won’t go any further. Darcy, take the portable scanner, we’ll have to walk.”

They went out and started to navigate the crowds. It seemed that the source of their readings and the center of people’s attention was at the same place; as they drew nearer, the music got louder. Darcy was grinning.

“Now this is the scientific research I was dreaming about!”

On the little stage right in front of them danced a bunch of tall people. They were wearing armor and cloaks, which was, in Don’s opinion, not the best outfit for dancing.

“It’s them, I guess?” He asked Jane.

“Seems so,” she said, looking at the scene intently.

On the stage, the blonde muscular guy in the center raised a big hammer in the air and shouted:

“People of Midgard, we’ll show you the Aaaa-sgardian way of partying!”

The music roared even louder, and the crowd cheered.

“Free mead for every one of you! Raise your cups!”

Many people did raise odd-looking cups. The drink was poured into them out of thin air. Everybody cheered again.

Don’s heart fluttered. Against all odds, this was a place where Loki would come to. A wild Asgardian party was certainly his thing. Don looked around; there were no giants in sight. Either jötnar were missing out or were here in disguise. He glanced back to the stage and blinked: Jane was already up there, approaching the blonde and starting a heated conversation. He needed a word with the guy too, so he started to push through; but just as he did, the music suddenly got quieter.

“Thor, it’s them! They have come!” Shouted one of the Asgardians.

The ground shook. Even before he turned his head, Don somehow knew what he would see, but when he did, he still could not quite believe his eyes. Two jötnar - one bald, one with a black mohawk - were straightening up after their rough landing, and in front of them…

In front of them was Loki. With a horned crown on his head, which was, okay, something to think about. But Don could not think, not really; he just looked, transfixed, soaking up the sight.

The giants were approaching ominously, Loki was frowning. This Thor guy jumped down the stage and was meeting them halfway.

People around, both humans and non-humans, that there were quite a lot of here, as Don now realized, started to worry.

But Don could see Asgardians smiling on that stage.

Jötnar were advancing.

It all looked a bit too theatrical.

Or maybe it was just his hope that Loki didn’t come here to the center of Las Vegas just to start an inter-extraterrestrial fight.

“Oi! Where is that son of a witch Thor Odinson?”

Or maybe Loki did.

“Is that ugly butt popsicle talking to me?”

Now that was just rude.

Loki and Thor glowered at each other for a couple of seconds, then both laughed.

“You came, Loki! You’re just the best!”

“Brothers forever!”

Don breathed out and smiled.

Sillies.

“Party people! My brother from another mother, Prince Loki, came just in time! We are saying goodbye to this beautiful city and moving the party to the vibrant city oooooof… Paris! Everyone is welcome to come with us!” loudly announced Thor, and everybody cheered again.

Oh no no no. Don had to hurry. He looked around. He needed to find a high enough place to climb if he wanted Loki to see him in this crowd. The way to the stage was too crowded, but there was a high stand to the right, so he started to push through in its direction.

Also, prince? Not just a noble?

The crown was a good hint, but still… a bloody prince?

He suddenly felt very middle-aged and absolutely not refreshed enough after the road.

Not that it would matter, of course. Loki probably barely remembers, if at all.

Just need to say a friendly hi. A hi from an old acquaintance. And be on his way, and probably finally let go of all this.

He managed to get a few feet closer to the stand, when suddenly a wave of green fog fell upon him, not letting him move further.

“Bro, don’t touch little Midgardians, come on!” He heard Thor’s voice, and at the same time the second voice, “Wait!”

Don looked around. Loki was stretching out his hand to him, wide-eyed and frantic.

Don couldn't help but grin.

“Not going anywhere!” He shouted back.

Loki was already walking to him with enormously long strides, the ground shaking with each step. People scattered out of his way.

Handy, that.

Finally, he was before Don, kneeling on one knee. He searched Don’s face.

“It’s you,” he breathed out.

“Hi, Lokes!” Don waved his hand and thought, what the hell was that? Lokes, really? “I was just trying to climb that stand over there,” he explained, “Wasn’t sure if you could see me in this crowd. A big poster and a loudspeaker would also be a nice idea.” Was he rambling? Yes, he was rambling. “Anyway… how have you been, buddy?”. Not “buddy”, you moron. “Your Highness?” he asked with a hopefully disarming smile.

Loki hastened to take off the crown. “That’s just…” He made it disappear with a roll of the wrist. “A bit of change lately.”

“Loki, who is this guy?” he heard Thor asking.

“Wait a minute, your friend is called Loki? Like The Norse God of Mischief Loki?”

Ah, Jane. Don looked around. They’ve been quite a spectacle for the whole party, it seems. He felt himself blushing.

Loki didn’t stop looking at him. Huh.

“We’re leaving,” suddenly announced Loki. “Have fun and all that. Don’t wait up.”

“Your Highness…” started the bald jötunn, and Thor exclaimed, “Loki!” But Loki was already getting taller, and taller again. Then he bent down and extended his hand for Don to climb on.

“Really?” squinted Don.

Loki kept his palm open and raised his eyebrows.

“All right,” sighed Don and climbed onto his palm. “Kinda embarrassing though.”

He looked around in search of something to hold on to. Loki curled his fingers around him like a parapet and suddenly Don was above the city roofs.

“You are not going to fall,” murmured Loki, and started to walk.

***

Big Loki for sure was a fast mode of transport: it didn’t take them even five minutes to get out of the city and to the foot of the red mountains nearby, away from the roads. Loki held Don against his chest, so the conversation would be kind of difficult.

The familiar feeling of giddy insanity was back. All this bird's-eye view. The moving blue cliff of a jötunn.

He poked the pad of Loki’s forefinger. The finger twitched.

Don scratched it. It was rough.

“Stop tickling,” growled the loud voice from above.

Don laughed.

If he answered now, would his voice sound tiny to Loki?

Loki started to climb a mountain, stepping up the slopes with ease.

“That would be a nice place to put me down,” said Don, pointing to a nice flat area between the rocks a couple of minutes later, “I’m getting kind of dizzy up here.”

“Just a moment.”

Loki stopped and gently put him down, then transformed to his human height.

Don looked at him again, closely. Loki hadn’t changed a bit. Proud, beautiful, a bit sly. Not looking very sly now, more like anxious.

“You haven’t changed a lot,” Loki said softly. Don laughed, and Loki added tentatively, “Butterfly.”

“I’m well into my forties,” smiled Don, “Not sure if the nickname fits me anymore. An old and weary moth, maybe. Have you seen my hair?”

“Silver, yes. That was quick. Looks good on you. But I’m more interested in that thing above your upper lip, what in the name of Norns is that?”

“Hey, I’ve been experimenting! And I’ve been told I look dashing! Dapper, even!”

Loki shook his head, smiling.

Loki looked lovely, by the way.

Don was suddenly overcome. He stepped closer to Loki and pulled him into a hug. He could smell the scent of mountain sage in the air all around them. And Loki’s scent, which was… well, alien, and achingly familiar.

“Man, I heard about this alien thing and I just, you know, had to…”

He was stopped mid-sentence by Loki trying to kiss him.

“Wait, Loki,” Don tried to turn his face away, “Slow down!”

“What, more? It’s been ten years!”

“Exactly! It’s been ten years!”

Loki stepped back and tilted his head.

“Are you taken?”

Was that hurt in his voice?

“Well, not really, no, but do you just want to, what, pick up right where we left it?” Don laughed awkwardly.

“That is exactly what I want, yes. However, I also intend to memorize your full name and home address before everything else. Also probably not go anywhere, just in case. I’ve been looking for you everywhere on this damned continent for far too long, in my opinion.”

“You have?”

“I was late. And you vanished into the thin air. I managed to find the owner of the house, but he didn’t tell me anything useful. He didn’t even tell me your family name, only the date when you left and that you were called Donald, which I knew already...”

“Donovan.”

“What?”

“It’s Donovan. Waters. How come we never?..”

“I don’t know! Donovan?! Nornorna! Well, I have checked in at every airport in the vicinity with apparently the wrong name. Didn’t find anything, of course. Continued to check for you in every car-selling business in this country - there are enormous amounts of them, by the way - but nobody recognized your picture…”

“My picture?”

“A quick sketch of mine. Anyway, I’ve been through two-thirds of them by now. And I tried to come back to that house every summer, but you never bothered to return…”

“That is a lot of searching,” said Don softly. His heart was melting.

“That is exactly what I’m saying! And now you’re telling me to slow down. I had, probably, only a few decades with you, and now one’s already wasted. I am out of time!”

“Okay. Okay,” Don pinched the bridge of his nose, “Let’s break it down. Listen, I can understand that. For you, it feels like we’ve met just recently, and I’m dying of some terminal illness and we’ve got just a few months left. I get it. Different scales, mortality, tough stuff. But please, try to understand my point, because for me it looks like you want to spend the next twenty years or so, which is a pretty long time and the rest of my life for me…”

“Life expectancy for men in your country is seventy-five years.”

“Of course you know this. Okay, to spend the next thirty years or so with a random guy you briefly met a while ago and kissed once,” Loki snorted, but Don carried on: “And I’m not, like, you know, against it, far from it, but maybe we could just cool down a bit? Get to know each other? Because I’m not dying from a terminal illness, not really. At least not to my knowledge. It’s just… life. We have time. You may not even like me up close, happens all the time, you know?”

“Indeed, because I have never lived by your side. Not ever.”

“For a bloody week, Loki!”

Loki shook his head.

“Was enough.”

“Not to say that with you being a prince from another planet and all that, how do I even fit in? Would you be able to keep this dalliance, this misalliance, actually, secret for long? Wouldn’t it hurt you if it comes out?”

“I am not planning to keep anything secret. I’m planning to marry you.”

Don covered his eyes with his hands.

“Eventually. If you agree. I intend to court you, let’s articulate it like this. Just… let’s not drag our heels for too long. And… I know you,” said Loki with conviction. “I knew you back then, and I never forget anything I don’t want to forget. Nothing is going to change for me.”

They fell silent. Don sat down on a big rock, thinking, looking down at the city below. Loki stood beside him.

“Okay,” began Don. “Let’s say we try this. I still think you're crazy, by the way, but let’s say we try.”

Loki visibly brightened up.

“So. I have work the day after tomorrow.”

“Do you like selling cars this much?”

“Oh, I don’t do that anymore. I studied history in college after… after all this. Wanted a change, you know. And I work at a law firm now.”

Loki was smiling.

“A scholar. Suits you.”

“Thanks,” said Don sheepishly. “Kinda still cannot quite believe it. Me, with a degree.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. I always thought you were a highly intelligent man.”

Don blushed. Loki grinned, then frowned.

“There was not a chance for me to find you, was it?”

“In one of the car dealerships? Not likely, no.”

“But you found me.”

“I guess I did.”

“It was predestined, then.”

“I don’t think anything is. Maybe, there are thousands of lives where we never met again and never had this talk.”

[*** There were. ***]

“Do you have a natural aversion to romance? I think you do.”

Don laughed light-heartedly.

“Anyway. I have work on Monday. And the whole week after, mind, but... Will I see you next weekend?”

“Why are you trying to get rid of me?”

“What? I’m planning our next… date? Meeting?”

“Can’t I just live with you?”

Don blinked.

“I live in a tiny rental apartment. In a small town in New Mexico. ”

“Great.”

“A really, really small apartment.”

“Can’t wait to be there.”

“I work from nine to six.”

“Unpleasant, but I’ll manage.”

“Seriously?”

“Never been so sure about anything as I am now.”

An absolutely insane creature, Loki was. Well, it wouldn’t last long, of course, but if he was this adamant about it now…

“Okay. Then… I guess, welcome?”

“Much obliged.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good talk, glad we had it.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Not gonna stop you.”

Chapter Text

They reached Don's apartment by Sunday evening. Seeing Loki in his house among his things was unusual and strange, but Don was exhausted and fell asleep immediately after showering, barely managing to stand for five minutes under the hot water. When he woke up in the morning, Loki was sleeping next to him, his blue - and heavy - legs over Don’s, but even then Don couldn’t fully grasp it because it was time to rush to work.

All day he walked around in a daze, bumping into objects and glancing at the office door every five minutes, but Loki never showed up (again, how would he know where Don worked?), and inside Don, there were two conflicting wishes: first - to rush home immediately and check if it was all a dream, if Loki had already disappeared on his own business, and second - to stay at work a little longer because the further it went, the less prepared he felt to face Loki at his own home.

How were they even supposed to live together - Loki, a literal prince, and him, a confirmed bachelor, in his tiny apartment? It was going to be a complete disaster.

As for what expectations and illusions must have been swirling in Loki's head if, after a fleeting romance, he considered Don worthy of ten years of searching, Don didn't even want to think about it at all. Because Don knew himself perfectly well; there was absolutely nothing special about him - except maybe he was a bit better at finding friends than some other people, but that was it. He was just a human, friendly, cheerful in a cheesy way, often careless, selectively responsible, sometimes grumpy, quite closed-off in important matters, and accustomed to living life his way. Ordinary - and not a dream material at all.

Time simultaneously dragged on and raced by, an hour went by in a minute, so much so that he wanted to stop it to catch a breath. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight...

Finally, he left work exactly at five o'clock, popped into the supermarket on the corner, but didn't allow himself to linger there for more than ten minutes, and, breathing deeply, entered his building.

In all honesty, what awaited him at home was perfectly logical, but it still caught him off guard.

Loki didn't vanish or wasn’t a dream, of course. He was reading a book on the history of the Nordic countries, comfortably settled in the armchair when Don walked in. Loki set the book aside right away and jumped to his feet with a smile. That was a nice sight. But the place itself... Don glanced around.

Loki had rummaged through and pulled out everything in the house: books, belongings, clothes. Apparently, he was exploring. Half of the things were left lying around, the other half was put completely in the wrong places. Dirty mugs were all over the house. He left the milk out of the fridge, for God’s sake, cut himself some bread, and left it all to dry up on the kitchen table.

Either he had used to be the same at the age of thirty, thought Don, looking at his apartment in some bewilderment, or he simply hadn't left Loki unsupervised for long, or that time the house was simply not his... Don hung his jacket on the hook and sat on the couch, and Loki immediately moved next to him and started kissing him behind the ear.

It would probably have been nice if Don weren't so deeply irritated.

He slowly exhaled and said to himself: a prince, remember, you knew what you wanted, didn't you?

Loki kept on kissing him, and Don even responded, but after a minute, he couldn't hold back.

"Blueberry, you've turned everything upside down," he said, pulling away, trying to keep a gentle tone.

"Where? I cleaned up everything!" Loki protested indignantly.

"Uh-huh," Don said and got up from the couch.

Four books - to different shelves, another dozen books to put back in their proper places, paper to the tray on the table, pens to the pencil holder, towel to the bathroom, mugs into the dishwasher, stale bread - into the trash bin, remote to the bedroom, inhaler (why did Loki get out the inhaler?) into the cabinet... Loki commented on each new item from the couch.

"I just haven't had the chance yet... You're just nitpicking here, it would be more logical for the pen and paper to be within reach from the sofa... It's extremely difficult to keep track of all these details!"

Don turned to him.

"Yes, I understand," he said softly. "That's the servant's job."

“Exactly!”

They fell silent, then Don said:

"Listen. I've seen an apartment for rent downstairs."

"What?"

"I think you should live there."

"Don!" Loki stared at him. "Are you serious? After ten years - and you're just ready to kick me out over some mugs?"

"I’m not kicking you out, I want us to be together. I just think there will be a much better chance of that if we have separate living spaces."

“It’s absurd. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Not at all. Wouldn't we have separate chambers if we were in your palace?”

“Yes, but… it is different.”

Silence for a bit, and then:

“Listen. Give me tomorrow. I won’t do it again, alright?“

“Alright,” said Don. He was not sure it would work. A millennium of being a prince doesn’t just disappear because somebody you want to live with has a different lifestyle.

“You’ll see.”

“Okay.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“No.”

“You don’t seem mad, yet you’re making very harsh decisions.”

“I am not mad. The chaos bothers me, but I’m not mad at you at all. It’s natural.”

“Why does the chaos bother you, if your desk was littered with papers too long before I got to it?”

“But nothing else is! And desks are a different matter, everybody’s desk is a portal to hell.”

“Don?”

“Mm?”

“Do you want me? In your life?”

Don sharply inhaled. Right.

Right.

He shifted from one foot to another and took a deep breath.

“Yes, blueberry. Very much. I’m sorry for being an old grump, it’s just… I guess I’m tired, and it’s a change I have not expected, not for a long time. Living with someone, I mean.”

“I’ll do better.”

“I’ll do better. I’m sorry. No, honestly, I was awful. Come here, I’m sorry, what was I thinking…”

What had gotten to him, really? He kneeled, took Loki’s hand, pulled him closer, kissed him - Loki went readily, pliant in his hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” murmured Don against his lips.

Loki kissed him, cautiously at first, then hungrily, then pulled back and said, “I’m not that easily deterred. I would move one floor down, too.”

Don shook his head and brought him closer again.

“Don’t.”

***

The next evening Don was resolutely determined to accept whatever there was waiting for him at home. He quietly closed the door behind him and went to the living room. As he had been expecting, it was not any better than before, worse, actually; and his blue disruptor of peace and quiet, green fog around his fingertips, was lying on the floor amidst the chaos, surrounded by books that Don certainly hadn’t had in his home before.

Okay, okay. Patience and priorities. They’ll figure it out. Probably.

“Hi there,” he said.

Loki looked up and grinned.

“Hello, grumpy butterfly,” he said smugly. “You’re seeing all this mess, right?” He jumped to his feet.

Don raised his eyebrows.

“Now, behold!” Proclaimed Loki and made a little gesture with his hand.

Green sparks flashed for a moment, and all things that had been scattered around the room suddenly flickered - and disappeared. No, realized Don, not disappeared - everything just reappeared in their rightful places, books on the bookshelves, cups back in the kitchen… Leaving the room tidier than ever.

“How do you do that? Man, that’s incredible!” he said in wonder.

Loki proudly beamed. “Practiced all day long! The hard part was not even creating… let’s say, a sort of a hook for each item to return to, but to check and resolve potential conflicts, when another thing already occupies the place where the item should be,” he explained, as Don drew nearer, smiling wider and wider. “Broke a couple of cups in the process. But now you have every single thing in your house accounted for, and it will take just a matter of seconds from now on to…”

Don kissed him hard.

“What exactly turns you on, my ranting or the tidiness?”

“All day long, huh? That’s impressive, Your Highness.”

“I am impressive.”

“You are.”

“And by every single thing, I mean everything inside your bedside table too, and I must say, you do have interesting things in there.”

“Do I,” murmured Don.

“I demand all of them to be used immediately.”

“Oh, I’ll use them all right.”

***

Somehow after this, they found their rhythm. Not without some hiccups here and there, but they did.

Loki took to Earth life pretty well. He seemed to enjoy exploring everything around him while Don was at work. He also went pretty deep in creating an illusion of being an average Midgardian: Don thought he would simply conjure some money out of thin air, but Loki thoroughly interrogated him and created a fake driver's license and social security card for himself (“People will ask you where you are from with the name like that and the accent, you know.” “I’ll just say I’m an Icelander, I believe I speak the language. Or rather, they speak something close to mine.” “Okay, let’s stick to that. What’s the capital there, by the way? Let me see…”), and even managed to open a bank account. Then, and only then, did Loki conjure some cash out of thin air for a deposit.

In the evenings they talked, just as before, a lot and with ease. The talk about Icelandic led to Loki teaching Don Jotunska bit by bit, the language that seemed to be one of the ancestors of proto-Germanic, as far they could tell after a bit of Wikipedia research and comparisons. (“By the way, it means your language is a descendant of mine too, butterfly.” “Don’t let me start thinking about it, Loki, my head starts to hurt.” “Where, here? Or here? Or here…” “Lokes. I’m trying to read here.” “Sorry, your hair is so soft…”).

Puente Antiguo was a really small town, and the news about Don bringing back a charming foreign boyfriend from a trip to Vegas spread fast. Don was glad he asked Loki to put on a slightly more mature disguise than before because his previous youthful look would certainly earn them many sidelong glances. Even as it was, his colleagues prodded him non-stop.

One day, Don was sitting in his office, eating a takeaway lunch while reading his papers (he didn’t spend longer than ten minutes on his lunch anymore, not now when he could go home almost a whole hour earlier instead), when he heard their receptionist giggling loudly from another room. This was unusual. Jenna was a very serious young girl, finishing college to become an LLB and switching to a paralegal position soon. Don actually considered it his achievement to get a smile from her once a day; even this bar was too high to reach half of the days. So he, naturally, got curious and went to the door to take a peek.

He should have known immediately - of course, it was his newly-minted Icelander. Loki was standing there in a luxurious coat with a charming and a bit predatory smile, tall and beautiful and very much out of place in the dull office environment. Don was quietly admiring him for a few moments, then Loki spotted him and his smile turned open and a bit silly.

“Thank you, Jenna, I seem to have found the person I was looking for,” said Loki to the receptionist.

“What… Oh, Mr. Waters? But I cannot find any time slots booked for…”

“No, Jenna, no time slots, I came to steal Mr. Waters… Donovan right under your nose. It is his lunchtime, am I right?”

Jenna, confused, looked between the two of them, and Loki mouthed to her, “Boyfriend,” winked, strode over to Don - looking very imposing, by the way, coat and all - and kissed him.

Don could feel his face turning hot, and he said, “Right,” and dragged Loki inside his office.

“You…” he said, laughing, “They aren’t giving me a moment of peace about you as it is, now I’m gonna be ruined tomorrow.”

“They ask you about me? What, pray tell, do you say?”

“Nothing, nothing!”

“Ow.”

That was the voice of a hurt jotunn, definitely.

“Wait, you’d want me to… what, gossip?”

“Well, it would be nice if you’d tell people once in a while just how lucky you are and what treasure you’ve found. In me. Would be only fair.”

Don couldn’t hold his laughter.

“Right, you’re right, I haven’t thought about that.”

He shut the folder with his papers, grabbed his coat, took Loki by the elbow, and led him to the exit, leaning over to Loki’s ear and whispering, “Because you are my treasure, and my blueberry, and my silly boy, and a huge, huge piece of my heart, and now take me somewhere out of this office, I can’t breathe here. Bye, Jenna! I’ll be back in an hour.”

He could see the pink color on Loki’s cheeks. It was pretty.

***

"In other words, I would not survive there," said Don thoughtfully after hearing an hour-long tale about the traditions of noble Jötunn upbringing.

"Not at all," replied Loki hastily, "We are not only warriors! Take me, for example…

"You've just told me you had to catch a, how was it, steinnbjörn?.. with your bare hands when you were coming of age."

They were walking in the mountain park, not far from one of the lakes. Loki had found out that Don hadn't ridden a jet-ski since Canada, and, looking both indignant and deeply satisfied, dragged him here in the first weekend.

"...take me, I'm not only a warrior, I am also a scholar in the magic arts. There are plenty of people who choose the path of knowledge. Well, not as many as in Asgard, naturally. Or, apparently and surprisingly, here."

“Oh, you arrogant brat.”

“My point is, there is nothing unusual about it on Jotunnheim either!"

"Uh-huh.”

"You would be thriving in the Archives! We even have the Alþjóðleg division there, they study all the Realms, and lay down the foundations for the diplomats".

"Al-fiuly? Sounds interesting."

"Oh, that was flawless! And yes, you'd like it, the weird creature that you are. Paperwork! Grey capes. There are lots of field trips, too."

"But come on, seriously, could you imagine it? Me, a tiny silly pale human in a tiny grey cape, walking under high arches of the corridors filled with dozens and dozens of blue giants?"

"Easily. They'd love you."

"I think you are projecting here, blueberry."

"You! You are too full of yourself, fiðrildi."

"Aha, so you’re not denying anything!"

Loki snorted.

“Come on, I’m just fooling around. So, grey capes?”

Loki stopped and took him by the shoulders.

"You're so warm," he said softly. "They'd have no choice but to be drawn to you. And I... my... My heart is yours, of course it is. Obviously.”

Oh.

A sudden deja vu hit Don. A forest, a lake, familiar eyes so bright and him melting, melting inside.

It was obvious, of course, though still inexplicable, but so, so strange to hear outright.

“I, uh…”

Never mind, Loki was already pulling him in for a kiss anyway.

***

And so time passed, month after month, and he wondered, of course, if Loki planned it all to last long. Or even if he could, for that: just how long a prince could be absent from his country to play house with an office worker on another planet? Loki didn’t seem restless, more like… on vacation, maybe. But vacations come to an end.

He would ask, of course. Probably should have asked. But he also suspected that Loki wanted to drag it all this as long as he could without troubling him, Don, too much, and then… And then, all these Jotunska lessons, and the talks about Utgard, and how the Jotunheim society works - it seemed all just for fun, and getting to know each other’s culture, but Don strongly suspected Loki would, sooner or later, ask him to go to Jotunnheim together. And when he would - what would Don’s answer be?

He read once in a magazine that the human brain makes all the decisions in the first few seconds after the choice is presented to him, and the rest of the time is spent rationalizing this decision for more conscious parts of the same brain. True or not, when he walked the streets of Puente Antiguo now - walked the ground of this planet now - it felt raw. As if he was on the brink of something, and a little bit - as if it was a goodbye.

And Don, he also wanted to drag it all just a little bit longer - their little out-of-time bubble, their tiny and tidy flat, the walks, the talks, the green chili lunches, the mountain trips, the sudden office disruptions, Saturday video calls with his sister and nieces (his sister, by the way, still could not believe he got together with “Da Canada Guy” after all this time - because Don had told her a bit about his trip back in the time, of course).

And by the way, surely there wasn’t such thing as an intra-Realms Internet connection, was there?

So he wasn’t going to ask Loki anything just yet. Sooner or later, the bubble would pop anyway.

And, of course, very soon it did.

Chapter Text

Don was walking home from work earlier, feeling a bit excited. Though Don of course never knew what exactly he would find at home, Loki’s surprises have been quite fun, and life felt fleeting in a good way. He still did sometimes feel like throwing everything to the wind and suggesting that they just go somewhere already, just to get rid of that constant feeling of "something’s gonna happen". But those thoughts were brief; he was juggling four open cases at work now, and no one knew them better than himself, and he certainly didn’t want to ditch his clients on a whim. And, to be honest, only half of what he did was about paperwork — the other half was all about finding a way to connect with people who weren't feeling like it at all. And not everyone in his office could keep pushing for results and trying different approaches all while keeping it friendly. He was pretty proud of his work, actually. Every time a case was successfully closed, he mentally patted the shoulder of the teenager he once had been, that one, convinced of being good for nothing serious — only, perhaps, for cleaning pools.

He waved to a passing van. Darcy waved back at him energetically from behind the wheel. So much time had passed, yet he still hadn't found a moment to sit down with them over coffee and ask how things ended in Las Vegas, he thought distantly, and promptly forgot about it.

He began composing a short story about his day at the office — in jotunn. He even managed to form the whole five sentences, another reason to be proud — mostly because Loki now spent half of the time at home simply refusing to understand him if he used English, and Don really made a huge progress ("Hvernig býst þú við að læra ef þú reynir ekki?" Loki teased, and Don grumbled that he never promised to learn this bloody language, that he was too old for this, but then obediently put together awkward phrases, one after another. Don suspected he sounded like a character from a bad comedy, but Loki seemed to greatly enjoy it when he spoke his language. At least, those conversations didn't last long and were interrupted by something more pleasant).

So, he was walking in a good mood, and it remained this way until he reached the doorstep of his building, where the good mood instantly vanished. First, because there was a huge hole burned in this door, and second, because honest-to-God lightning bolts were shooting out of their windows on the second floor.

Don raced up the stairs. The first thought on his mind was that someone had come for Loki, that someone was trying to kill him, probably one of his own enemies, or maybe one of his father's, and the second thought was that he, Don, wouldn't be able to do a damn thing, but maybe he could at least buy Loki some time. So when he pushed the door open - someone generously left it without any holes — and found in their living room one pale dark-haired Jotunn in disguise and one golden-haired Asgardian with a hammer, both catching their breath and laughing like crazy on the carpet, he simply let out a slow exhale and slid down the wall.

"I thought you'd gone all soft with your tender feelings, but here you are, holding your ground! Good job, brother. Oh, it’s your Mysterious Mustached Midgardian! Just know, I’m planning to bring all the guys here. They’ll come running when they hear about domesticated Loki, just you wait."

“I’d rather not,” said Loki, then looked around and added worriedly, to Don:

"I'll fix everything!"

Don just waved his hand. Who bloody cares. His heart was still pounding.

"Wow," said Thor, looking at Loki with wide eyes. "Triple M, what about snakes, you charm them too?"

"Just — Don," said Don.

"The beginning of the day? Nice name. A bit girly, but nice. So, tell me, Dögun, who are you and how did you meet my little brother, the frost of my heart?"

“Who’s little here,” snorted Loki.

"Sure," said Don, getting up. "But first, I could use a drink," he said, extending his hand to Thor. "So you just happened to be here by chance?"

"Exactly," Thor nodded.

Interesting, thought Don. Jane or Darcy? Or maybe he just really does miss Loki, why the hell not.

It took them quite a while to have lunch. As it turned out, Thor couldn't talk quietly at all, and Don chuckled as he glanced at Loki, who winced at every loud exclamation. Winced, but listened eagerly while Thor, oblivious to everything around him, delivered all the latest news from Asgard and Jotunheim. He misses it, thought Don. Maybe I should suggest he go there? The first time Loki had decided to quickly go to Jotunheim and back it hadn't turned out very well, but…

Don ignored the news from Asgard — all the names were barely familiar to him — but Jotunheim interested him. Soon he noticed that Thor often mentioned Loki's older brother, Helblindi, sometimes mentioned the younger one, Býleistr, but never spoke of their father.
Interestingly, Loki didn't talk about his father either. Although when they had first met, back in Canada, he’d mentioned him quite often.

That was something worth clarifying.

"And how are, um, the parents?" Don asked, hesitating — not quite sure how to refer to the king of Jotunheim.

Loki flinched, and Thor fell silent, glancing alternately at both of them.

"Um," he said.

Don looked at Loki. Very, very unhappy Loki.

He stood up and walked over to him.

"I'll go check out… some books," Thor said, getting up, clumsily dropping his chair, putting it back in place, and awkwardly hurrying off to the living room.

“Learned to read?” Retorted Loki after him, weakly.

"What's the matter, B-berry?"

Loki sat still for a moment, leaning against Don, and then began to speak.

"Father... is sick. He's not that old, not by our standards, but... When I left you at the lake, I thought that letter was from Father. It was actually from Helblindi. When I returned home, it turned out that Father had gone mad, trying to cut himself, running out completely naked, attacking some children with a sword... He's had… incidents before, but that time it was really bad."

Don listened carefully.

"So... Helblindi was the heir. He always tries to pull me into all this, we always argue about it. When I returned then, the three of us spent several days sorting out everything we could. I managed to convene the High Council in a matter of days, had to bribe some of them, threat others. Helblindi kept grumbling about the rush, and why it had to be done right away. Well, you know why. The Council sat in their chairs for almost five days, but eventually declared Father unfit to rule the Realm, and the title was passed to Helblindi. I still don't have any nephews, so I became the heir, and I'm still on that hook for now. But my brother got married last year, may his wife be in good health, so I hope this threat will soon move further away from me. I can't imagine anything more boring than sitting still on the throne, listening to constant, endless chatter, watching life happen around you, making all the decisions but not having any real opportunity to participate in anything. No wonder Father lost it. And I hope... I hope that with my magic and with... maybe if you ever deign to answer my proposal — with my Midgardian spouse, my constant absence from the planet — I'll be an unsuitable candidate in any case. Not that there will be any case. Long live my brother."

Don chuckled quietly,

"So that's why..."

"No!" Loki interrupted, jumping up. "Don't even dare to speak of it. Yes, it would be convenient for me, but the cards just happened to fall that way. I would marry you without a second thought even if it meant I had to become king the next morning. Even if you... even if we only lasted for a few days, and then I had to spend the rest of my days alone and on the throne. Why are you always doubting me, Don?"

[*** Oh my baby self. A few days would be more than generous. Imagine — none.

Let him be. He is how he is. The most open-hearted, the most closed-off, always this way, always.***]

Loki's eyes were ablaze. Don shifted from one foot to the other.

“I don’t really know,” he admitted. “And I didn’t think it was a serious conversation, you know, back then, about marriage and stuff. Sorry. But do you…”

“Yes!”

“You haven’t even heard the question!”

“Yes anyway.”

“I’m just asking — did you go back there often after your brother became king, or did you try to stay away, even before I found you?”

“Away, as much as possible. I visited sometimes. Mother is… all this is not easy for her. And I… I guess I can say that I miss home; but I’ve no intention to be caught there.”

“Because… I mean, I guess you have to be there to, you know, show off your Midgardian spouse? For it to be… you know, truly defiant.”

Loki stood up straight.

“What are you saying, fiðrildi mitt?”

“That if that’s what you really want, we probably should move there. So it would be believable. I don’t mean that it would be a lie, just…”

He didn’t finish the phrase — he found himself being kissed instead.

When they stopped a few minutes later, Loki grabbed a beer mug from the table and, to Don's amused horror, slammed it onto the floor.

"Thor!!" he yelled. "I'm getting married! We're going to Jotunheim!"

"Give me one too," said Don.

Loki, grinning, handed him another mug. Don slammed it onto the floor.

"Yep, pretty damn satisfying."

Loki laughed.

Thor appeared in the doorway, smiling.

"Are we leaving right now?" he asked. "Because I still have... some things to take care of."

"Yes!"

"No!"

***

Of course, it took Don a few weeks to sort everything out. He reluctantly passed his work to Jenna, their new paralegal, had a small office party, and took his unused vacation days before quitting. Loki was practically beside himself with impatience. Meanwhile, Don tried to gather some things, but couldn't decide what to take. It seemed that besides books, he didn't really want to take anything, and there were too many books to carry. Loki solved the problem by stuffing all their books and a few other items into some sort of endless magical pocket.

The apartment felt empty, and on the last day, Don couldn't wait to set off.

They left in the evening, the two of them and Thor. Jane drove them all out of town for this (Knew it, thought Don with amusement).

"Ready?" Loki asked quietly.

"Ready freddy, all set. How will we... Ah."

With a flick of Loki's hand, a silvery bridge appeared in the sky. Loki hugged him tightly.

"I've got you. One, two, three..."

They launched. Or flew, or rocketed through the sky. This flight felt dangerous as hell.

And the Bridge up close looked utterly, completely different from anything he could ever see on Earth. Don didn't even feel nervous, just — everything felt sharp, everything imprinted in his memory from the first glance.

Time seemed to flow in chunks. Here they were stepping onto the bridge,

—and below was the Earth, dry, hot New Mexico land, shrouded in the darkening evening—

—and suddenly everything distorted, but the bridge beneath them remained the same, but everything was shifting, but the bridge stood still, but everything moved—

—and here beneath them was the same bridge, but below was ice, ice, ice, snow-covered mountain peaks and ice, and it was impossible to tell how much time had passed, a second or a century—

—Loki held him tightly and whispered, "Almost there, hold on, my butterfly," and Don wanted to say back something smart, but his teeth were chattering and there was a sharpness in his eyes—

—Loki exclaimed something, a green mist clouded his vision, and warmth enveloped Don, and only then did he realize how cold he had been just a moment ago, deep into his bones—

—and below was Jotunheim, Jotunheim.

For long seconds, Don stared at the snow-covered curves below stretching to the horizon, at the blue haze in the distance, at the blinding brightness, at the lifeless beauty of this planet, and he shuddered from the cold, the cold that he was already protected from, but that had left its mark on his body forever. For a moment, he sharply regretted getting into this, and shook his head like a little boy who doesn't want to, no!, and the snow blinded him, blinded him, but Loki lifted him up — Loki was towering again, Loki was huge, Loki glittered like an icy peak — he turned Don to face him, pressing him close. Don put his forehead against the golden plate (where did it come from, Loki had just been wearing a T-shirt?), and they flew down.

And it was dark.

[*** Absolutely careless! ***]

Chapter Text

Don wasn’t in any kind of hurry as he made his way down the gallery. Hurrying here was more trouble than it was worth — sharp spikes covered the floor. It was as if someone had scattered climbing crampons upside down and then flooded the place with ice; hard to slip, of course, but if it happened, you'd be left with some good scrapes, something Don had already learned the hard way. He spent his early days here pacing the gallery outside his room, back when he didn’t yet have the strength for longer walks but was determined not to feel helpless.

Through the windows along the gallery, the mountains and the valley below could be seen, where the city stretched out. The palace was nestled into the mountain side, though Don hadn’t had a chance to see it with his own eyes from outside yet. He hadn’t even set foot outside since they arrived, which was not that long ago — less than two weeks.

What exactly had happened to him back on the bridge still wasn’t clear, but the trip through the Bifrost and the freezing cold of Jotunheim had nearly finished him off then. The temperature that day had dropped to -94, much colder than the usual -30 here at Utgard. Loki was still beating himself up for not keeping Don’s cold-protection spell properly refreshed. The one he’d cast back in Puente Antiguo had worn thin during their journey (Loki said that the charm should have lasted for months, but the Bifrost distorted the magic, as it sometimes does). Ever since they arrived (Don tried hard not to picture his own helpless body being cradled by the giant Loki at that moment), Loki renewed the spell every morning like clockwork, to the point where Don hardly felt the cold at all, ever — everything felt like a comfortable 70 degrees. Almost too easy. Don, by the way, certainly didn’t blame Loki for anything, but the whole situation made him feel even more like a burden than he’d expected.

The gallery led to the Archives, where Don had started spending his time lately. Just as Loki had predicted, the scholars from Alþjóðleg were more his speed. They didn’t treat him as one of their own, of course, but they were friendly enough, especially Kreyorne, a Jotunn who specialized in Midgard. Don had even gone out for drinks with them a couple of times. The local beer wasn’t bad once you diluted it enough—it took about four parts water to one part beer to make it drinkable for a human. And the Archives themselves had plenty to keep him occupied, especially now, when he knew how far his own understanding of the universe was from complete. Although, if he was honest, he wasn’t entirely sure if the Jötnar were any closer to the full picture either — reality could be much, much stranger.

So the beer’s one thing, but the snacks were just awful. Mostly overly salted meat with strange spices. He would’ve loved to start cooking for himself, but even here, in the royal palace, the food selection was pretty limited. Loki mentioned that farther south, where the ground thawed during the short summer, people grew vegetables in greenhouses. Hawaii, sort of. The palace had greenhouses too, but vegetables were still considered a delicacy, and as for fruit? According to Loki, that only showed up with delegations from Asgard. Thor and his friends didn’t count as a delegation, of course, and they never bothered to bring anything.

So, the diet was mostly meat, aside from some pale mushrooms that grew in warm underground caves.

Key lime pies were definitely out of the question.

So yes, Don was just minutes away from the Archives when the thing happened. At first, he heard a noise behind him. He turned around, but saw nothing except his reflection in one of the icy columns. He’d glanced at it, then, feeling a chill, looked again. The angle — and something else — was off, as if the reflection shouldn’t have been there at all. Don stepped closer, and the reflection vanished. Circling the column, he found nothing, looked at his reflection in the column ice once again and only then realized: he was wearing a blue jacket and jeans. It’s only that the reflection he saw just seconds ago — that one… wore a dark suit.

A shiver ran down his spine. He glanced back one last time and hurried — almost ran — toward the Library. Nothing else strange happened, and as he opened the heavy wrought-iron doors, he almost managed to calm himself down.

First off, it could easily be just Loki. Second, Loki couldn’t be the only sorcerer around here. Perhaps someone was just playing a prank. Thirdly… Well, anything was possible.

But one thing was for sure — he hadn’t imagined it.

He should’ve consulted his own expert on local oddities, but Loki as usual was nowhere to be found. His brother-king had dragged him into every council and ceremony imaginable, apparently as a punishment for all that time spent outside the palace. They only saw each other in the mornings and during dinner — dinner meaning a raucous feast at the long royal table, for which Don had been provided a ridiculously tall chair. Don found the chair very funny and even told Loki that he, Don, was the hobbit in the story. Loki didn’t quite get the joke.

By the way, Don liked Loki’s brother, King Helblindi. The king was stern and kept to himself, but he welcomed Don warmly. At times, it was clear he and Loki were brothers; a familiar spark of childlike mischief, cruel and innocent, flickered sometimes in Helblindi too.

So, with Loki still missing and no chance to find him before dinner, Don figured he’d better look through the books around him — maybe something would turn up. He knew enough Jotunska to understand simple texts, though he had no idea how to say “doppelganger” or “mad reflection.” And he definitely didn’t want to discuss this with any of the Jötnar around. Though it might help in his and Loki’s “avoiding royal duties and succession” case if Loki’s fiancé appeared not only as a commoner—an aging Midgardian commoner at that — but as a barking mad one. But no, he’d just started making connections here; he wasn’t risking it. So, search for answers himself and then talk to Loki later — that was the plan.

His quick — well, relatively quick, considering it was a paper archive — search through the first few books gave only vague references to witchcraft, which again was Loki’s domain. With a sigh, Don grabbed another book from the stack without looking and then did a double-take. He jumped to his feet, glanced around to find no one, and stared at the book.

Or rather, a magazine.

Fastrider Watercraft Magazine. There was a big blue Yamaha on the cover.

What the hell?

He opened the first page and found a yellow post-it note. It read:

“Hello Donovan! Don’t be alarmed, I just want to talk. Meet me in the Skínari, third cave on the right, fifth below. Please. I wonder if you recognize the handwriting.”

Well. The problem was, he did recognize the handwriting.

Of course, he shouldn’t just rush off because someone had slipped him a note in a jet-ski magazine.

Even if that someone had his handwriting. And probably looked like him.

Don sat there for a minute, shrugged his shoulders, clenched the note in his hand, and stood up.

***

The city didn’t look like a human city, the palace didn’t look like a palace either. Most residences were deep within caves in the rock, with many pathways enclosed indoors, but some destinations could be reached only through external galleries, and Skínari was one of them. It was the pearl of Jotunheim, an incredible upside-down forest of massive ice arrows hanging from the ceiling in various shapes and sizes. Some, powerful and rugged, were natural formations, while others were sculptures crafted by local artists — intricate shapes that resembled a mix between a totem pole and a gothic relief. Floating cold lights illuminated all this.

When Loki had showed him Skínari, Don had forgot to breathe for a few seconds. This place — its existence here — made those early days after his arrival far more bearable.

"When I was little, there weren't even half as many arrows," Loki had said then, hugging him from behind. “You mean all this has been hanging here for two thousand bloody years?” “Longer,” Loki laughed. “Nothing will happen to it. The Great Hall is protected, just like the rest of the palace and the main living quarters. The side corridors may collapse with an earthquake sometimes, but there's nothing important there — just apprentice work.”

Loki seemed pleased to finally show Don something he truly liked.

Don wanted to tell him: even if it were entirely dreary, Jotunheim with Loki would still be better than Earth without him. But then he hesitated, and the moment was gone.

Now, Don paused in the Great Hall for a moment, his gaze lingering on the greenish lights floating all around, before moving on to the right gallery. The third cave from the entrance, then the fifth deep inside. He stepped in quite decisively but stopped at the entrance after only a couple of steps.

His double stood in the middle of the room, looking at him with the friendly, quiet smugness of someone who had just pulled off a brilliant trick.

What a strange feeling, Don thought. You feel sober, yet totally stoned at the same time.

The double was almost completely gray-haired, seemingly older (what?), and dressed in a poorly tailored suit. His hair was cut short, and his shoulders were slightly slouched. He would have looked entirely boring if it weren't for his confident expression.

Don, on the other hand, didn’t feel confident at all but still smiled broadly.

“Don, right?” he said, reaching out his hand.

The double smiled disarmingly.

“Yeah, not exactly. I guess I was once, a long time ago. I’m more used to Mobius.”

“Nice name.”

“Right? I like it too,” Mobius laughed. “I’d offer you a drink, but there’s nothing. This is a first for me too.”

“A first for what?” Don asked.

“This is the first time I’m meeting my own Variant in person,” Mobius said. “For the longest time, I was sure I could not have any Variants, by definition.”

“Well, I can get that.”

“Maybe… I did see one, the main one, if you want to call him that. But as it turns out it’s all nonsense, Sacred timeline and all that. You and I, we’ve both diverged too much from him. You — you didn’t even make it to Ohio, because… well. By the way, big respect — a college graduate! Not many of us are.”

Don rubbed his face and laughed. Mobius smiled too.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m rambling. Told you I was nervous about this, right?”

“This is some parallel universe stuff, isn’t it?” Don asked cautiously.

“Exactly. Well, not exactly. Parallel universes are more about place, but here, it’s about time. Imagine, uh… branches of a tree. Everything starts in one place, but then someone makes a choice, then another. You’d think it would grow exponentially from there, but no, because free will, while it exists, is still largely shaped by circumstances. Still, there are forks in the road, lots of them, and at each fork, the previous timeline splits. You can jump between the timelines if you’ve got the right equipment. Some, as it turned out, don’t even need the equipment, but there’s only one guy like that… or was… is… that we remember, at least. Not that you can trust our memory.”

“And you have this equipment?”

“Yes.”

Don felt a swell of pride. There he was — just like him, only from some crazy sci-fi.

“Cool.”

Mobius smiled, a bit sadly.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so there are a bunch of us, like you and me. Why do you need your double? And why did you come to me?”

Mobius hesitated for a second, and Don immediately guessed:

“You need Loki.”

“I need a Loki,” Mobius said at the same time, and they smiled a bit at each other.

“To be honest, I don’t just need any Loki. There are a lot of Lokis, and most of them aren’t exactly eager to offer help out of the goodness of their hearts. Not their fault, but their biographies don’t usually lead them that way. I need a Loki who’d be inclined to help…”

“You. Me. Someone who looks like you.”

“Well it wouldn’t hurt, yeah. The two of you are a unique case. There’s a bunch of Donovan Waters who met their Loki on vacation, just like you, but only once and never saw him - or her - again.”

Don vividly imagined his entire life in Mobius’s hands, ready to be reviewed. What did it look like? A thin file in a stack? Or just a line on a graph, one of hundreds? He shuddered a bit.

“But most Lokis are very different from yours,” Mobius continued, “and have never crossed paths with our Variants. Some have, but it didn’t end well.”

Don raised an eyebrow, but Mobius waved it off.

“Nothing personal, there was just a rather unpleasant situation in New York. It can get really tricky with Loki sometimes. Anyway, out of all the Variants, you’re the only one who got truly close to him. Honestly, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read your Loki’s file. I never would’ve guessed… So, I couldn’t pass up this chance. And if you could help convince him, I’d be incredibly grateful.”

“Convince him to do what?” Don asked.

Mobius had just begun to speak when a deafening crack echoed from deep within the caves. The massive ice spear hanging directly between them began to tremble, followed by a sharp ringing as all the others shivered in response. Mobius and Don exchanged a glance before dashing toward the wall, where a small ledge was. The ceiling started to crumble.

An icy arrow whizzed past, grazing Don's cheek. He was almost at the ledge when heard a quiet cry — Mobius had slipped on the slick ice. Don rushed toward him, but then something strange happened.

Suddenly, a heavy silence fell, only a faint rustling could be heard, and everything froze. A massive ice needle stopped, hovering just centimeters from Mobius's face. Don looked up. Above him, four sharp icicles had stopped mid-fall. Even the air itself seemed to freeze.

"Okay… Okay. Come on," Don whispered for some reason, "give me your hand, come on!"

He helped Mobius out from beneath the needle, and they scrambled under the ledge.

The icicles in midair remained hanging between nothingness and the ground.

"I was wondering if a cave full of hanging swords was the right place to arrange a meeting," Don said, eyes wide as he stared at them.

"It’s just no one should be here today. Snuskidag, the dirty day, jötnar won’t come to Skínari," Mobius replied, staring at the icicles too.

Oh, right.

"Do you even know why… What is this? What’s going on?"

"No," Mobius answered, too shortly.

Don didn’t think so.

"You do realize I can read your face like my own, right?"

"I’ve got an idea, but honestly, I’m absolutely not sure," Mobius shook his head. "I can only hope. Let’s try something... Come on."

Don crawled out from under the rock, following Mobius towards the exit, right beneath the hanging tips of icy spears.

"Wait, what if they fall?"

Mobius walked forward in silence, stepping over the shards, focused. They stopped at the safety of the cave’s entrance. Mobius turned, took a deep breath, and said quietly:

“You can let go now.”

Don wanted to ask what the hell is he on about, but then he realized — Mobius wasn’t talking to him.

For a moment, nothing happened, and then all the arrows, as one, crashed down with a deafening clang.

Mobius didn’t say a word, but was clearly shaken.

“Listen man, you’ve got to explain,” said Don. “What the hell was this, are you magic too, what do you need from my Loki, and why do you look like you’ve just seen the Virgin Mary on a… I don’t know what.”

“A jet-ski?”

“You know, it’s actually called a personal watercraft.”

“Right. We really have to get this jet-ski thing under control somehow, don’t we? Okay, if I’m right - then that has actually a lot to do with what I want to ask...”

But he was interrupted again, now with a sharp blade against his throat.

A bit rude, but understandably so, decided Don, watching his fiancé slowly appear from the thin air.

“And who are you?” asked Loki Don’s doppelganger, and Mobius visibly stifled a laugh.

Chapter Text

Loki circled Mobius like a large blue predator. Don was a bit afraid that Loki might lose it and stab the double just in case, so he tried to quickly explain what had happened.

Mobius watched the two of them silently — and it was unsettling. His gaze was sharp, a bit ironic, not at all hostile, just…attentive. It felt strange.

As if they were on stage or on display, Loki and him.

Maybe Don was just still too struck by the mental image of the many Variants that Mobius had studied and carefully selected before coming here.

To Mobius’s credit, though, he didn’t let his gaze drop below Loki’s face. Considering that Loki was dressed in the typical outfit of a Jotunheim noble — which was a loincloth and a bit of shoulder armor — that was quite impressive. Don could never resist sneaking a glance.

Maybe Mobius just wasn’t interested in Loki in that way?

Like hell a Don’s Variant wouldn’t be!

Mobius could also have seen it all already. What kind of surveillance did they have there?

And Loki… It wasn’t exactly easy to read Loki’s face, but Don knew him well enough to see that he was confused. The only question was, why. Sure, the story was incredible in every sense of the word, but Loki clearly was growing nervous.

"And you arrived just when Mobius was about to explain why he needed you. Aaaand… we’ll just step away for a moment," Don smiled at Mobius, grabbed the edge of Loki’s loincloth and pulled Loki aside.

"What’s the matter, blueberry?" Don whispered once they had moved away. "Why are you squirming like a snake on a hot skillet?"

Loki looked at him indignantly. Don shrugged and smiled.

"Also, shrink yourself down a bit, would you? My neck’s getting stiff, and your bare chest is… distracting."

"Utter disrespect toward royalty," Loki declared, changing himself to human size, his skin lightening and his outfit shifting into some kind of leather…thing. He always managed to do it so smoothly that Don could never catch the exact moment of the transformation.

The leather thing was no less distracting, though.

"I am full of love and admiration for royalty. Now, what’s wrong with Mobius?"

"He's very strange."

"Well, to be expected, no?"

"You just can’t see it. But for my eyes, if I look closely, he’s all… his seiðr ripples, buzzes all the time. I’ve never seen anything like it."

Don glanced back at Mobius. A middle-aged man in a suit. Graying hair, a mustache. Very much like himself. No visible ripples or buzzing.

"Seiðr — like your magic? Is he a mage or what?"

"No, no. Seiðr is in everything — everyone has it. You have it, even these stones underfoot have it." Loki tapped his foot on the ground. "It’s just that neither you nor the stones know how to use it."

"I like your comparisons," Don muttered.

"Shush, my little pebble. But seriously — I want to study him closer…"

Don turned around:

"Hey, Mobius! Do you know why your seiðr is always rippling?"

"Don!"

"I wasn’t aware I even had seiðr," Mobius replied cautiously.

"Everyone has it," Don responded cheerfully.

Loki snorted.

"So, Loki wants to know if you’re feeling up to some magical experiments on yourself?"

"I did not say that!"

"Sure," Mobius said calmly. "Whenever you’re ready."

Loki narrowed his eyes.

"And if I, for instance, took you apart piece by piece while doing that?"

Mobius spread his hands, still smiling.

"That’d be on you to put me back together afterwards."

Loki hummed thoughtfully.

With far too much familiarity for someone who was ready to put a dagger through Mobius just half an hour ago. At least, in Don’s opinion.

"Let’s first figure out what it is you actually need, Mobius," Don said.

"I have… or had, a friend," Mobius said, growing serious. "He was also — well, as you’ve probably already guessed — a Loki. And — this, you wouldn’t know — but he saved you. He saved me, he saved everyone. All timelines, and even beyond timelines. Imagine something like a battery that powers… well, everything. The universe, if you will. That battery was destroyed, and everything was on the verge of collapse. But my… friend, Loki — he took the place of that battery, and… became it, in a sense? We’re not entirely sure what happened. For a long time, we thought he… died at that moment. But not too long ago my colleague, from where I work — the place is called the Time Variance Authority, by the way, or TVA for short — we’re sort of outside of time, in a way — well, my colleague O.B. discovered something. And now he’s certain Loki is alive, but can’t leave the place where he is. And to figure out how to help him, we first need to find that place. And that’s the real challenge — it’s full of some crazy space-time distortions. And that’s where we need your help."

Don and Loki exchanged glances.

"I don’t know about you," Don said, "but right now, I really want something to eat, something to drink, and even more somewhere to sit. Otherwise, I’m not ready to continue this conversation. Let’s go to our living room."

Of course no one thought of cloaking Mobius with invisibility. So when they met Don's pal Kreyorne in one of the corridors almost at the end of their way, Kreyorne froze for a moment, but then Loki quickly waved him off.

"Reflection magic, nothing special."

"Ooooh," Kreyorne said with admiration and poked Mobius on the shoulder. "Just like the real thing!"

Mobius leaned in and whispered conspiratorially:

"What if he is the fake one?" — and nodded toward Don.

Kreyorne gave a confused smile in return, and hurried off, glancing back.

"You're the fake one," Don muttered.

"Well, I’m certainly not very real here," Mobius laughed. "If some stray variant like me tried to stick around in the wrong timeline before, my own organization would have… removed them pretty quickly."

"Before?" Don asked, and at the same time, Loki asked:

"Removed to where?"

"Pretty much to the same place I'm inviting you to now," Mobius sighed. "It's incredibly slippery in your halls, Your Highness. Are we close?"

"We've already arrived. But first — let me check your seiðr."

**********************************

It took Loki some time to perform quite a few magical manipulations on Mobius, and he refused to share the results. Don got the impression that he hadn’t got any results at all. Mobius, unruffled, was looking all around their Midgardian-style living room, asking Don questions. The pause stretched a bit, so Don poured everyone some diluted jotun glögg, filled a bowl with nuts and dried fruits and put it on the table together with some bread.

"Limited import from Asgard."

"Oh, famous nuts," Mobius smiled.

"Let’s get to the point," Loki said. "Go ahead, Mobius. You said you came up with a plan."

"We came up with a plan. There’s an opportunity to create an anchor point for opening a time portal to our Loki, but to do that, we need to… alright, I won’t pretend to understand the technical details in the slightest, but in general — we need to set things up first, something like triangulation. The problem is that Loki is outside of time, so we won’t be able to anchor to time itself. But we can anchor to what is called a temporal signature, and if we set this up simultaneously from the TVA, which is outside of time, and from one of the timelines, and from what’s called the Void at the End of Time — which is in the same place as the TVA but on the other side — we should be able to pinpoint the right location…"

Don felt his gaze starting to glaze over. Loki listened intently, but he surely didn’t understand any of it either.

"What do you mean — in the same place on the other side?" Don asked.

"Damned if I know, to be honest. It’s something to do with, heh, Mobius strip? Or the Klein bottle... Something like that. O.B. said that 'The Void is on the same plane as the TVA, and in the same place, only outside.' Don’t bother asking me more — if you're curious, I can take you to O.B."

"So, if I understand correctly," Loki said, "you want to reach your Loki, and to do that, you need to do something from three different places at the same time. I have no idea what the same time could mean in this case, but — what do you need me for?"

"Remember when I mentioned the temporal signature? All variants of the same being have the same temporal signature. So in these three places, it should be three Lokis who will actually do… the thing. And they must be able to use magic. So, my task is to find three magical Lokis who are willing to help. Which, as you might imagine, isn’t as simple as it sounds."

"And how many have agreed so far?"

"Well, we already had one. Or rather we — I — managed to convince her fairly quickly. The second one is you. We haven’t found the last one yet, but no matter how long it takes, you won’t have to wait."

"Because you're going to travel through time," Don guessed. "Clever."

"Yep! The main thing is not to die in the process, because on the timeline, I age like an ordinary person."

"No, you don’t," Loki suddenly said, jumping to his feet.

"What do you mean?"

"I just realized what’s going on with your seiðr. Your body, every moment, is returning to the same state it was in just a moment ago. Your seiðr either duplicates or distorts itself, and it looks like a very dense, very fine ripple. Have you ever been injured on the timeline?"

"Many times!"

"And after your Loki… did what he did?"

Mobius fell silent.

"And how much time have you spent on the timelines since then?"

"If you add it up… several Midgard years," Mobius said quietly.

"And how’s that? Not a single scratch? No illnesses, nothing — *you*, a simple Midgardian? I know what your body’s like. Fragile, like glass. Your leg joint keeps hurting every now and then. Last spring, you caught a cold twice," Loki nodded toward Don. “And that’s in New Mexico! Have you ever been to New Mexico?”

Don huffed.

"I... haven’t noticed, to be honest. In the TVA, not changing is normal, but on the timelines... You think this is the work of... my Loki?"

"I think it’s obvious. As I understand it, your guy is somehow inextricably linked to time. Your personal time, the time of your body, slips back every second. Just now, you said the ice hung in the air above you — was it hanging in space or time? I don’t know where your Loki is, but he definitely didn’t die or disappear without a trace. He’s clearly watching over you. Maybe even constantly. I would."

“We were not… like you.”

"But you must have thought the same thing in the cave, right?" Don asked. "That’s why you were so shocked, and why you said to let it go."

"Shall we check?" Loki grinned, pulling out a dagger.

Mobius, like a complete idiot, started unbuttoning his shirt sleeve.

"My sweet Highness," Don said, "are you sure your time won’t start slipping forward really quickly if you wound a dear close friend of the god of time? Just a thought."

"They need me — for trrrriangulation," Loki sang.

"Or they’ll easily find another Loki for the triangulation," Don hissed, trying to take the dagger away.

"Alright, alright!"

"So, I take it you’re ready to participate," Mobius said, rolling his sleeve back down.

"We are," Loki nodded. “We are, aren't we?” He looked at Don.

Don was surprised. That was it? He wasn’t even asking for anything in return? Was it Mobius who had such an effect on him? Mobius effect or something.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

"And in return?"

Yep, Mobius had questions too.

"You’ll owe us," Loki smiled brightly.

Mobius looked at him with a slight suspicion, but also with relief. And also, Don suddenly thought, he looked tired and a little older, now when he no longer had to convince anyone. Don exchanged glances with Loki.

"I’m ready to go right after a good dinner, a good night’s sleep, and a hearty breakfast," Loki said.

"We’re ready to go right after dinner, a good night’s sleep, and breakfast," Don grumbled. "Don’t even think about leaving me here, you two."

"Wouldn’t dream of it!" Loki protested.

"Alright," Mobius nodded, standing up. "Then I’ll come back for you tomorrow morning. Thank you — both of you. I do owe you, big time. Please don’t change your mind."

He stood, smiled at them, pressed a couple of buttons on his device. An orange door appeared in the thin air — Mobius stepped through it, and it disappeared without a trace.

**********************************

Sleep wouldn’t come to either Don or Loki. Maybe it was too hot in the bed, or the air in the room was too stuffy.

“Well, I mean, Mobius is me, only much cooler and immortal. If things don’t work out with that Time Loki, you know who to look for when I die,” Don suddenly joked.

And winced. Oh, that was a mistake. Definitely a sore spot.

Loki, as expected, became furious.

“Was that an attempt at humor?”

“Hey…”

“Do you think that’s funny?”

“No, of course not…”

“You think it’s funny that I’m about to lose you? Is it okay to make jokes about that?”

“No, listen…”

“So let’s just replace one variant with another, huh? Like you’d just replace me with some other Loki? Wouldn’t even notice the difference? One of how many of them are there?”

Don grabbed him by the arms. Loki struggled a bit (pretending to, if he really wanted to break free, there’d be no chance to hold him), still hissing. Don held on.

“Calm down, calm down, kitten, forgive me. Of course, we're all different, I just said something stupid, forgive me…”

Loki slowly quieted down.

“And what makes him cooler than you?” Loki continued, calmer. “He just had a very long and a very strange life. He’s tired and sad.”

“And heartbroken.”

“Heartbroken?”

“You think they weren’t together, Mobius and his Loki?”

“He said they weren’t like us.”

“You didn’t see him in the cave when he realized that his ‘friend’ had saved him. He loves him no less than I love you.”

Loki nudged him with his nose.

“And still, tired or not, he’s still… cool. And don’t say you didn’t like him.”

“I liked him, of course. He’s still you, in a way.”

Don snorted.

“Then why did you have a fit when I said almost the same thing?”

Loki gave him a cold look.

“Alright, alright, alright.”

They fell silent.

“I feel sorry for him,” Don admitted. “I think if this plan doesn’t work, it’ll break him. It feels like he’s only holding on because of this.”

“Maybe… Maybe we should invite him to stay here then.”

“So I haven’t even died yet…”

“Donnie, for someone’s sake! What’s wrong with you today?”

Loki never called him Donnie.

“Sorry. I can’t stop myself,” Don said. “I think I’m jealous. He’s basically immortal, you’re immortal.”

Don shrugged and shook his head when Loki tried to say something.

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t be. I just can’t stop right now, just leave it. Please. Back to the topic, we can invite him to stay here, but I don’t think he’ll come. Why would he want to have us in front of his eyes all the time? Let’s just hope the plan works for him. And for that poor Loki who’s stuck somewhere.”

Loki clearly didn’t want to drop the subject, but didn’t push further.

“Yes.”

“Why did you agree so quickly? And without asking for anything in return? A bit out of character, my blueberry. I’ve seen your negotiations.”

“I’ll let you know that a version of mine selflessly sacrificed his life and freedom to save every living thing!”

“I don’t doubt your kindness or bravery. Never did. Just wondering.”

”Well, first of all, I can disappear with you from this palace, which I’m already sick of, and return in the same moment. Still being a perfect brother and a perfect prince.”

Don giggled.

“Also, if it works out, one or maybe even two quite powerful allies will owe us.”

“True.”

“And thirdly, people don’t age in TVA.”

Don didn’t quite get that.

“So?”

Loki turned to him.

“Humans don’t age in TVA, my fiðrildi,” he said very gently. “I’m actually thinking of trying to stay there for a long time.”

“Oh.”

Loki pulled him closer, and Don suddenly felt the tension leave him. His eyelids started to close.

“I want to sleep,” he mumbled.

“Sleep then.”

“I’m really sorry, you know.”

Loki kissed him.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry.”

When Don was falling asleep, Loki was still looking at the ceiling.

*************************

In the morning, Mobius appeared right after breakfast, like clockwork. Exactly the same as yesterday, even in the same suit.

“Ready?”

“And how much time has passed for you?” Don asked.

“A year on the timelines. And an indefinite amount of time in TVA. I even had to spend some time in the dungeon – nice prisons you’ve got in Asgard, I must say!”

“Was there a Loki at a party in Asgard?”

“Ah, right. Nevermind.”

Don and Loki exchanged glances.

“So — the third Loki? Did you get them?” Loki asked.

“Already arrived,” Mobius nodded. “You’ll meet him in a moment.”

He pressed a button – and an orange door appeared.

“Well then, welcome to the good old TVA?” Mobius smiled.