Post Credits/Extra Epilogue

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*it would not be a true marvel Fanfiction if I did not include a post credit scene.  So, without further ado, and in honor of Stan Lee, I present a post credit scene taking place a year after the ending of Spaces Between*

~*~

"Seventeen"

I hadn't even entered the throne room but my heart was already pounding so fast that I thought I might explode.  Never, have I had any problems with being around crowds—but to be there, the center of the crowd's attention. I don't think I could do that.

What if I screw up?

Thor's crowning me a Princess, that means I will have responsibilities. I'm still learning about Asgard. What if I mess something up? What if the Asgardians suddenly decided that they—

The throne room went silent.

It was time.

I think I might faint.

Then someone was at my arm. Loki started down at me.

"Is my little soror nervous?" He crooned with a simper grin. Relief and annoyance flooded me. Still, my dead panned expression did nothing to hide my nervous jitters.

"Very," I bit out, swallowing my pride. Then, in a softer voice, I asked, "am I going to have to do a lot of things like this as a Princess?"

Loki chuckled, and for a second, my nervousness faded. I remembered how much I missed that laugh all those months ago when we were separated. How I wished he was able to laugh like that again when we reunited. I hadn't heard him laugh in months.

All of us were healing. It was a slow process—but that laugh was proof.

Proof that there was light at the end.

Loki threaded my arm through his, nodded to the guards manning the doors. He leaned his head down to whisper to me, "perhaps you will, but I promise you, we will face them together.

~*~

We stopped before the dais and Loki gave my arm a light squeeze. This is were we part.

I swallowed, watching as Loki stepped away and moved to stand on the steps beside his mother. With a deep breath, I forced my gaze back to Thor standing in front of me.

He looked every part a King. His long hair had been partly pulled back away from his face and a couple pieces had been braided. Silver and gold beads shimmered from several of the braids in the evening light. He wore formal robes, unlike his silver and blue battle attire, and a deep crimson cloak flooded over his shoulders and down his back.

Mjölnir had been somehow tied to the baldric around his waist and he held his father's spear, Gungnir, in his hand.

Thor sent me a wink.

I tried not to snort as his gaze drifted over me to the crowd behind.

"People of Asgard," Thor began, his voice bellowing throughout the massive room. The mass of Asgardians quieted in respect to Thor.

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