She was sitting by the fire, staring into the flames and shaking like a leaf in the autumn breeze. Her hair was falling from the loose braid, tumbling around her shoulders, as she huddled in on herself. That was the first thing that he saw as he opened the doors to their quarters. Then, sweeping his eyes around the room he spotted the window, thrown open to the winter night, and the tangle of sheets that were jumbled at the foot of the bed spilling onto the floor. Despite the occasional crash of the shutters against the wall, she still didn't look up.

He walked over to her, making sure to make his footsteps clear before gently clearing his throat.
"My lady," he ventured softly. Still she didn't stir.
"Eira," He said a little louder, that finally got her attention.
She looked up, blue eyes wide and a little lost. Slowly she blinked, finally taking in the pale skin, the dark hair and the worried green eyes of the younger prince of Asgard.
"Loki," she whispered, "You're, oh Loki." And then she was crying, silent tears pouring down her face.
Swiftly he knelt down next to her, catching her shaking hands in his own. She felt cold, colder than she should be considering how close she was to the fire place.
"What is wrong?" he murmured, trying to still the shaking and the tears.
"I saw," Eirda swallowed thickly, "I saw it, the world's end. I saw it slowly dawning."

Loki gasped at her, suddenly stilling.
"You had a vision of Ragnarok?" He questioned the seer.
She nodded glumly, she knew the stories but to see it happening in front of her eyes, unable to do anything. That was different. A single tear escaped from her eyes.
Loki reached up, gently wiping the tear with his thumb.
"How?" He asked, it was written in the chronicles of the Yggdrasil, that he himself was the one to start Ragnorok. This did not mean he wished to do such a thing, and if there was any way possible to prevent it, he would gladly take that.
Eira took a breath and began.
"The world will end in whispers, not a bang or an explosion. There will be no earthquake, no drought. The ground won't crumble, the rivers won't run dry." She stopped, blue eyes locked onto green.
"It does involve Balder," she admitted, and Loki slumped.
There was a long running feud between the two Asgardians, stemming from a defeat on the training courts and various disagreements about the treatment of servers, especially the serving girls. Ever since finding about the prophecy, the younger prince had been worried that he would cause the death of the other out of anger.
Eira squeezed Loki's pale hand, causing him to focus on her again.
"I do not believe he died at your hand, however you will be given the blame for his death," she told him, "It will be by someone wishing to create discord in Asgard, possibly even in the nine realms themselves."
Loki regarded her thoughtfully, "There are many that would wish to create conflict," he mused, "Some to remove me from the court of Asgard due to my heritage, and some of their own purposes."
The brunette nodded, smiling softly. "And there are many that are purely out for revenge."
The raven haired man nodded in agreement, "My silver tongue has lost many a friend."
"That is all I saw, the slow quiet destruction of our realm." She whispered, "Maybe the answers will soon come clear."

They went to bed that night, holding each other close. With Loki's strong arms wrapped her, and the smell of fresh linen filling her nose, Eira drifted off into a peaceful sleep. It didn't stay peaceful however, as suddenly she was in a cold wasteland.
It was Asgard, or what was left of Asgard. The once golden and warm realm was covered in ice and snow, everything tinged with a despondent blue. It looked more like Jotunheim, than Asgard. In front of her were memorial markers, the bodies of the deceased either lost to the frost or sent on their way down the river in true Asgardian style. The river, she knew, was now frozen over solid and no longer flowing to Valhalla. Looking more closely, Eira was able to make out the names carved on the stone. Thor, Odin, Frigga, Jane of Midgard, and numerous other names of people she knew. Eira was falling, falling, falling.

She sat up gasping, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness in her room. Her night clothes were sticking to her, and she could feel sweat slowly dripping down her back. She, however, still felt the icy cold from her dream. She felt movement beside her, and Loki was sitting up, pulling her against his chest.
"We did not lose the battle, Loki," she sighed, "We lost it all. We lost Asgard and we lost out family. We lost everything."
He hugged her tighter, felling the shudder that the seer was trying to supress.
"We were stuck inside an eternal frost, no direction, just drifting morbidly free," she sounded horrified.
"I will do everything in my power to prevent this," the dark haired prince solemnly promised. Despite his Jotun heritage, Loki had no love for the cold.
"They were all dead," Eira sounded empty. "There was no afterlife, no Valhalla, when you are dead all you do is die."
Loki gently laid her down, keeping the seer wrapped tightly in his arms and pressed against his chest, trying to ground her. He knew that what she had seen had shaken her, especially as she knew that these were no dreams but a prophecy. This was the future, but it was also only one thread of the future, the future was not defined and Loki would do everything in his power to prevent this thread from forming into reality.
As they were drifting back to sleep Eira mumbled something.
"We didn't lose, we lost it all."