Brethil

by Lalaith Quetzalli

-AU to Nightingale.- They ripped her from her life, wishing to force her into being who she'd once been; what they did not know was that human, elf, or anything else, she was who she'd always been, who she'd always be: the Princess, Ambassador, Empath, Healer, Laughter, Compassion and Devotion; the Songstress… and his True Match. (Can be Read as Stand Alone). Warning for Lady Loki.

For starrose85. A bit simpler than what we planned, but still, I love how it came out.

So, for those who might be curious. Several weeks ago StarRose brought several ideas to me for AUs, one served as the starting point for "Wintersong" though the fic ended quite different from her idea (and I might yet do something more closely related to what she said), this fic is closer to her idea, a bit simpler than she envisioned perhaps, but I didn't want to make things too long and possibly bore you.

This fic is completely different from any other AU, really aside from some things in the past, Midgard doesn't really come up. Most of the story takes place in Alfheim, and here I feel I must warn you, for those who might not be aware, my Alfheim is very different from whatever you might have been seen in the comics (only natural, since I haven't read them). It's actually heavily based on Tolkien's elves, to the point that I used their languages, names, and some of their lore (though not their history, for obvious reasons).

THIS FIC CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. Really, all you need to know is in the story. For those of you who do follow the series, you'll see where exactly this timeline went away from the previous ones. WARNING for Lady Loki. While I don't write any femslash, and the whole gender changing can be put down simply to shapeshifting abilities and a convenient disguise, I do see Loki being a bit genderfluid, and exploring that part of hir in this story (not yet ready to go all out with that in the main timeline, though there have been implications about disguises and some innuendo; still, thought I'd give it a try more openly here).

This fic is written in first person, changing POVs, as is usual (unless I say otherwise) we start with Nightingale's POV.

Dreamcast: Emily Browning as Nightingale, Eva Green as Lady Loki, Hugo Weaving (as Elrond) as Erynion, Cate Blanchett (as Galadriel) as Thenidiel, Evangeline Lily (as Tauriel) as Elanor. For the rest of the elves you can picture whoever you prefer. Georgie Henley as Meril, Skandar Keynes as Rhîwiôn, Amanda Seyfried as Ylva, Shiloh Fernandez as Fenrir (in his humanoid form), Katie McGrath as Hel/Helena.

Having said all that, on with the fic!

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Brethil

(Alternative Universe to Nightingale)

By: Lalaith Quetzalli

They ripped her from her life, wishing to force her into being who she'd once been; what they did not know was that human, elf, or anything else, she was who she'd always been, who she'd always be: the Princess, Ambassador, Empath, Healer, Laughter, Compassion and Devotion; the Songstress… and his True Match.

True love goes beyond the body, it's about the soul.

I woke up that morning, much as I had every morning for more than a decade. While the life I had certainly wasn't the one I imagined for myself when I was a child… it wasn't bad either, not at all! I had a home, a family to call my own, a man I called brother even though no blood bound us together, his wife I called me sister in much the same way; and then there was my match, my consort, the love of my existence: Loki, and our children: Rhîwiôn and Meril.

The children were practically twins, four years old, a season separating their birthdays. They also weren't siblings by blood. Meril was mine, I had carried and given birth to her for all of ten months… which was actually considerably less than a she-elf ought to carry a child, yet also more than a human woman would (as I'd have once expected to… it was complicated). Rhîwiôn, on the other hand wasn't ours by birth, he was the child of a distant cousin of mine, and my beloved's half-brother; we'd stepped in when it became obvious his mother wouldn't survive the birth, the father wasn't in the picture and Merenwen's (the boy's birth-mother) family had no wish to claim the babe; mainly because he was half-Jotun. It was insane, I knew there was no love lost between the Ljósálfar and the Jotun, but to go as far as to turn away a baby, to wish him ill, simply because of who his sire was… I found it despicable!

There was one other inhabitant in our household. Merenwen's former handmaiden, and nanny to both of my children: Elanor. She was tall, with fair skin, dark hair pulled back in elaborate hairdos with simple but elegant headpieces, and favored layered linen tunics in warm browns, reds and greens, much as most elves did.

I was an odd one for the Ljósálfar, I knew that; while my skin was certainly fair enough, it tanned with the sun, more than any elf's ever did, I was a foot or so shorter than the average elf, wore my long dark-auburn hair down in loose curls and by far preferred light, long, airy sleeveless dresses in shades of lilac to the more traditional layered tunics and heavy gowns other Ljósálfar favored. Then there was a fact that I was a 'thaliel' a 'valiant daughter/girl/maid'; the closest they had to describe a warrior-lady in Alfheim; which wasn't easy, considering that there were only two of us in the whole realm! And most would say Tegaladwen did not count as such, as she wasn't actually an elf, regardless of how much like one she might look with her statuesque figure, alabaster skin, deep-green eyes and long obsidian black hair… then again, for all intents and purposes I wasn't either (again, it was complicated).

We all broke our fast together, before Elanor took the children to their morning lessons (she was more than just their nanny, she also served as a governess of sorts, at her own insistence); while the two of us rode to Faerûn, the capitol of Alfheim, where we attended court sessions once a month, offering our services to her Majesty, Queen Faelwen Nenuial and the Sisterhood of Princesses. It was part of the accord that allowed our family to live in peace and seclusion in Jewel Forest, after our rather… complicated arrival (a lot about us was complicated).

xXx Erynion's POV xXx

It was still early in the morning when the sound of hooves reached my ears, two horses were approaching, fast; the light and quick sound gave them away as mearas, the big, well-bred horses usually reserved for royals, and while the ones approaching weren't that officially, I knew there were many for whom they would always be… especially her. Her… the once princess, once-almost-queen: Lalaith Mirloth… Tinúviel… Silbhé Arianna… Lindaew…

I remembered the day we lost her, we all did, everyone in Alfheim at least. The lady who'd stolen all our hearts at five years old when, in the wake of our most heart-breaking tragedy (which had included the loss of her own sister, Princess Merilwen), she stepped forth and offered herself to be our princess. It was an offer Alfheim as a whole took gratefully. We didn't know how to exist without our Court, without our Queen and Princesses… and the Bloody Night had lost us all of them, as well as all the Lord Protectors (the royal bodyguards) save myself. And only because I was too young to have been on duty, in the palace, that night… days shy of my coming of age ceremony, when I'd be able to take on my duties officially. It was that which allowed me to join her that day, as her own Lord Protector. The day we each began our respective journeys.

From the moment I met her, I never doubted that everyone would love Lalaith, she was just such an amazing child. I could hardly believe how willing she was to take on duties meant for girls much older than her, and she never hesitated, never allowed any of the burdens to weigh her down. She was the picture of the perfect princess, the ideal candidate for queen. So much the Council began insisting on her being granted the title of Queen from the day she turned fifteen. She refused, stating that after the tragedy and the losses, we needed to hold onto tradition more than ever; which meant she couldn't be queen before reaching her majority… at 25. No one could have ever imagined what would happen a year prior to that.

We didn't see Loki Odinson coming, no one could have. And really, what were the odds of an unplanned visit from an Asgardian Prince changing things so dramatically? What were the odds of him being Lalaith's match? Queens didn't have matches, they were devoted to their duties, Alfheim was their consort, and all Ljósálfar their children… then again, Lalaith was never meant to be a queen, was she? We didn't understand that for the longest time, and that's something I shall always regret. I cared for Lalaith, more than I should have, cared for her like a sister, and not just as my Princess; and still I didn't see all she was going through until it was almost too late. Not until she practically screamed it at me, in the way only she knew how… by singing.

I made my choice then, chose to be there for her, to support her, as my little sister, regardless of anything else. I was so proud of her, when she passed all the tests for the crown, before revealing the one thing the Elders did not know about her: that she could fight. I will forever treasure their expression, when they discovered that; it was something not done, for she-elves to become warriors, yet she'd done it, and she was good at it. Then, when they were all still trying to decide if going against tradition in such a way made her unsuitable for the crown (or most likely, trying to find a way to make sure it wouldn't), when she herself announced her choice: she was stepping down, she'd not be Queen, not even a princess.

She even stopped being Lalaith Mirloth, dropped the name completely and instead became Tinúviel, consort of Loki, princess of Alfheim and Asgard (because we just refused to let her go completely, all the realms would know she was ours first). Tinúviel… her match truly gave her a fitting name, and in our own language too! Tinúviel, literally meaning Daughter of Twilight, it was a way many poets of old chose to call the nightingales, rather than other more simple ways in both Quenya (the noble version of elvish) and Sindarin (the 'common' elvish, also called by some the 'sylvan tongue'). And her voice truly was like that of the nightingales. Elves had good voices, it's part of our nature, but Tinúviel was especially gifted, and we all knew it. The most perfect voice in all the realms… it was one of the reason she became a legend.

The other reason, concerned her match. In Alfheim it was always our belief that matches were a gift from the stars, from the Higher Powers. I think we forgot that, at least for a short time, when she chose him over the crown. Some certainly never fully accepted it. Even when she recited the Ancient Vows with Loki, gave him a daughter, princess Helena. They were together for nearly a century, and even when the end came, it wasn't choice but tragedy that split them: Enchantress Amora murdered Tinúviel… that was when the shadow fell.

Alfheim never forgave Odin Allfather for the spell that made not just Prince Loki but everyone else in Asgard, and all the realms but our own forget our princess. A part of me understood it, much as I might not have wanted to, the King had already lost a daughter (because I knew he loved Tinúviel as such), he did not want to lose a son too, and he wanted to believe that forgetting would erase the pain somehow. He was wrong, it only made things worse; the hole was still there, but they no longer knew that, they didn't understand. The anger of the Ljósálfar was such that we pulled away from any relation with Asgard, and in general with the other realms as well. Even if they'd forgotten our beloved princess, we never would. In our hearts she was ours, and always would be… perhaps that's where the problem began.

I knew when Tinúviel was reincarnated, Thenidiel, my own match (the best Seer of Alfheim, and the leader of the coven of Spellweavers), told me. She dreamt it, the moment Tinúviel's reincarnation first drew breath: a human baby girl called Silbhé Arianna. The news gave me hope, that one day we might meet again; that one day she and Loki might meet again. It never even crossed my mind to tell the Elders, Queen Gwaedhiel Tasarinan or anyone else, didn't see why I should. Even if it might be the same soul, she wasn't Tinúviel anymore, she had a new life and a right to it.

When, six years and a half later I arrived to the palace after my two week vacation to find a rush of servants, handmaidens and healers, and screaming in a voice that, even coming from a very different throat, I had no trouble recognizing… I had no idea what had happened, how Silbhé had ended in Alfheim, I just knew it couldn't be good.

I was right, of course. Princess Faelwen Nenuial of Lake-Town approached me secretly to tell me what was going on. It would seem that Thenidiel wasn't the only one to dream of Tinúviel's rebirth, Lady Haldaraina had as well, and she informed the Queen and Elders of it. The original plan was for them to wait until she reached the age of majority and then spirit her away (I was quite sure that would have never worked either, but it wasn't my concern in that moment); then something happened. The princess couldn't tell me what exactly, some kind of tragedy, Silbhé Arianna's father had perished, and two of the warriors had chosen to take the six-year-old child instead of letting the humans take care of her. They'd pulled a terrified, injured, grieving child away from everything she knew and into another world. Then, as if that weren't bad enough, they went ahead and used a ritual on her, attempting to awaken Tinúviel in her.

It would be impossible to know what even made them believe such a thing was a good idea. That they had any right to destroy Silbhé Arianna's life, to erase her and bring Tinúviel into place. Most of all, it would be impossible to discern what made them believe any attempt to use her, to bend her to their will would ever work. Tinúviel had stopped being ours long before she died, the moment she dropped the name of Lalaith Mirloth and chose instead to take the one given to her by her match, perhaps even earlier. And for the Elders to believe they could take an innocent human child and shape her into what they thought our princess should have been.

Such a thing was never going to work, I knew that from the start. A part of me had even begun to make plans, on a way to save her. Princess Faelwen had promised to help me in any way she could, and most of the Sisterhood would follow her lead, even above that of the Queen. I had no idea when it had begun, but our Queen was losing support, that was never a good thing. A Queen wasn't absolute power, she didn't rule by some kind of 'divine decree', she held her position by the will of her own people, elves from every community of our realm, which the Sisterhood of Princesses represented. Without the support of Alfheim, a Queen could never hold her throne…

Thenidiel warned me, warned us both to do nothing. Change was coming, but it was not up to us, it was up to her…

I was laughing like crazy, inside my head at least, watching the Elders go around like crazy, trying to find a six year old child, who'd managed to escape them… again. The very same thing kept happening, more and more often, to the point where those of us against the Elders' choice had been treated to that particular show for three days in a row. Princess Faelwen approached me discreetly as I watched everything from a corner.

"You know where she is, don't you?" She asked me very quietly in sindarin rather than quenya.

(She was much like Tinúviel had been in that respect, choosing to hold onto her own tongue, the simpler form of elvish whenever she could, rather than use quenya for everything).

"I have an idea." I said with a shrug. "Tinúviel used to have a place, a sanctuary she called it. Very few people know where it is, and even less know how to get in."

"You know? That's the kind of thing we were never told about her." She commented softly.

"The Elders have always focused on what she did as a princess." I admitted with a shrug. "I think they've come to believe that's all she was. As if she had never been anything else, never been her own person..."

"This is just the beginning, isn't it?" She appeared to have realized it just then.

"Oh definitely." I could barely hold back my predatory smile. "I don't know how exactly they've managed to convince themselves that Tinúviel was the kind of she-elf they could manipulate. Especially considering the circumstances of her abdication..."

"Wait a second..." She flushed at interrupting me but went on. "Circumstances?"

"Yes, Tinúviel learned to fight, even before abdicating Alfheim's throne." I explained to her. "She made it obvious during her last test, the hostage situation? She solved it herself."

"Why didn't we know any of this?" The princess asked me.

"Cannot know for sure, but if I had to guess, to keep control." I admitted thoughtfully. "A Queen might rule in Alfheim, the Sisterhood of Princesses might be her support, but the Elders have always been an important part as well. Their power might not be as obvious to most of our people, but they have it, and we know it… they know it. Something like what Tinúviel did… learning to fight, abdicating her throne, it goes against all traditions. Under usual circumstances such actions would have meant denouncing her; but they couldn't do that, because from the moment she stepped up to be our Princess at five years old, Tinúviel became a symbol to all Ljósálfar. The Elders used that for a long time, to keep tradition intact, the good things and the bad. Then they hid the things Tinúviel did that they didn't like, in order to hold onto that image of the perfect princess they'd built upon." I shook my head. "I wonder if even they forgot all about that. If they somehow managed to convince themselves it was all Loki's fault."

And that was something (someone) else I didn't want to focus on. The Elders might choose to ignore the fact that those two were a match, but sooner or later that would become an untenable situation. Princess Faelwen said nothing, just looked at me in silence. She was young, not even five centuries old, one of the youngest in the Sisterhood; she knew nothing of Tinúviel but the stories being told. Very few remained of those Tinúviel herself had welcomed into the castle, just before leaving to marry her match, Queen Gwaedhiel included.

I never fully understood what the Elders were planning exactly. It was obvious they wanted the young girl to become a royal again. Though how they were going to justify it when she didn't belong to any of our communities, I had no idea. She wasn't from any bloodline, which in and of itself made her ineligible. Her status as an orphan qualified her for becoming a handmaiden, but they would have never gone that far for just that. Even if they'd thought to use her past life to justify giving her a position as a princess (or, spirits forbid, a queen), that was never going to work if she refused to work with them; and sooner or later, she'd make them see that.

I was right, and I was fortunate (or unfortunate, depending on one's point of view) enough to be present when our reincarnated princess finally decided she'd had enough. She actually lasted longer than I thought she would, a full moon… though that also might have been her giving herself time to grow used to her own changes. The ceremony that the Elders, Queen Gwaedhiel and several spellweavers subjected her to, did more than just bring back the memories of her previous life, it also changed her physically, into something in between the she-elf she'd been, and the human she was reborn as. (The necessity of her growing used to that first was also probably the only reason why she hadn't gone looking for her match the moment she woke up).

It wasn't a good day. The Elders had taken to ordering Protectors, handmaidens and at times even princesses to stay with our reincarnated princess at all times in an attempt to keep her from disappearing. They managed to keep her from leaving through the doors, only to nearly have a stroke the first time she threw herself out a balcony and onto the closest tree, disappearing into its branches in seconds. People kept forgetting that Tinúviel hailed from Jewel Forest, the main characteristic of that settlement was that, unlike all the others, there the homes were built on trees, rather than around or even inside them, like others did. For the elves of Jewel Forest, climbing trees was the most natural thing in the world, probably something they learned to do along with learning to walk. Still, they kept trying to restrain her against her will (had any of them thought to ask me I'd have told them it was a huge mistake to do that, no one could force Tinúviel to do anything against her will… no one); and sooner or later something, someone had to give… it happened that day.

We could all see the tension in our former-princess, I was pretty much expecting her to dive out of the closest window, since the balconies had been barred to her (she could have done it, ever since she'd torn the elegant gowns they forced her into for the fifteenth time, the Elders had been forced to allow her to wear whatever she wished; she'd gone from simpler, lighter dresses… she could have fit through a window in the one she was wearing that day). I certainly did not expect her to spin around, face the elders and tear into them like she did:

"By the Mother of the Stars!" She cried out, and even in her fury, her voice never sounded like anything but bells, though the way she stalked the Elders was every bit a bird of prey. "I've about had it with all of you. You want me to be a princess? Very well, I shall be a princess for the next three minutes!"

She took a deep breath and straightened up; we could all see the change, the moment that she seemed to almost shake off the facade of a young, vulnerable child (even though she still looked like the six-year-old she was); her eyes flashed, and I knew in that moment she was all Tinúviel: the princess, ambassador, empath, healer, laughter… she was everything she'd ever been, all she'd always be.

"I am not Lalaith Mirloth." She stated in a very no-nonsense voice, shaking a hand to stop any of the Elders from interrupting her. "I am not. I stopped being her the day I surrendered my right to the crown, the day I became Tinúviel. A claim that was further solidified by my marriage to Prince Loki Odinson. My match!" She stared daggers into one of the Elders in particular. "You claim to wish to protect the laws and traditions of Alfheim, well, what about the traditions that state that a match is a gift from the stars? Or the laws that prohibit any Queen from having such? One cannot serve Alfheim and one's other half at the same time; and ignoring the pull of a match would be ignoring the will of the stars. It cannot be done!"

I could still remember in her last life, the time she'd been so conflicted, so tortured by those same facts; her wish to serve Alfheim, like her sister couldn't; and her pull towards Loki… she knew the irrevocable truth from the very beginning, but it was still hard for her to accept it. To accept that, regardless of how good she might be at the position, she was never meant to be Queen…

"You claim to defend Alfheim and its ideals, and then trample on them all at the same time." She went on. "It's an insult to everything this realm is! An insult to our ancestors and to the people! To the very stars and the One, our creator! Then, as if that weren't enough, there's me. You pulled me away from my world, tore me from my old life..."

"We saved your life!" One of the Elders finally dared to speak up.

"You do not know that!" She retorted. "You cannot know that. No one except perhaps the Norns could have known that. My father was dead, but he was not my only family. I could have been claimed, could have had a life. You took that chance away from me. You took my choices from me, made decisions that weren't yours to make. And all for what? To push me into a mold where I do not fit! Where I never did."

"You're our princess!" Another insisted. "You're meant to be our Queen!"

"I was never meant to be your Queen!" Tinúviel replied, passionately. "I should have never even been a Princess, and we all know that. I wasn't chosen, Merilwen was. I was nothing but a plain girl in Jewel Forest, the second daughter of a once noble family, fallen from grace. But I offered myself, and the offer was taken, because we all knew someone needed to take that place. And then… somewhere along the way we forgot that it was never supposed to be me." She let out a breath, voice going quieter, but no less intense. "Last time you didn't get the chance to pressure me into staying, I didn't give you the opportunity. And now… now you intended to do the same. But you made a mistake, when you brought me back, when you turned me into this… this I am now, neither human nor elf, you didn't just destroy the human girl I was, you also brought back everything that once made me Tinúviel. Let me make one thing very clear: I wasn't your pawn then, and I don't intend to be so now. I hereby renounce any and all claim I may have or may receive upon the crown of Alfheim; never shall I take that throne, not in this life, not in any life. So mote it be!"

The Elders definitely weren't expecting that one, it was impossible not to see the mix of disbelief and fury in their expression as they heard those words.

"I think you've held onto your power for too long." She added for good measure. "You've even begun to believe that it is you who makes the decisions in this realm, rather than our Queen..." She turned to Queen Gwaedhiel right then, and her expression was so sad. "Your Majesty… a Queen is meant to be a representative of Alfheim, to protect all Ljósálfar as her children… and for all I might not have been born as one in this life, I am one in soul, and you did not protect me my lady. You allowed the Elders to take me, to use that terrible ritual on me, to tear apart the girl I was and the woman I could have been… and all for what? For a dream of a Queen I could have been? That was never meant to be, that will never be. For all I might wish the best for this world and the Ljósálfar, that is not my fate, it never was. I am done."

She turned around then and walked away, no one dared follow or get in her way. And then, just to make things truly explode, Princess Faelwen called for a vote of no-confidence against Queen Gwaedhiel… Never in all the history of Alfheim; or at least as long as our realm had been a Queendom, had such a thing been done. I could hardly believe it was happening.

After serving as witness for the vote that not only outed the Queen, but gave us a new one in Faelwen Nenuial, I went looking for our reincarnated princess, found her leaving the palace. Nothing but the clothes on her back with her.

"Where will you go?" I asked, not even thinking about stopping her.

"No idea." She admitted with a shrug. "I suppose I'll need to make a new life for myself now."

"Will you go back to Midgard?" I was intrigued by the prospect.

"No." She let out a sad sigh. "Much as I might wish I could get that life back… there's no hope for that. I am not Silbhé Arianna anymore… even if there might be any family for me there, I'm not the one I should be for that to work. Look at me Erynion! I might look like a child, but I'm not really one, I certainly don't speak or act like a child."

She was right. She'd never be able to act like a child again, and humans would never be able to understand her.

"You know, your old estate in Jewel Forest is empty." I offered. "I'm sure you'd have no trouble reclaiming it."

She seemed to ponder on it for several seconds, before eventually nodding.

"I might do that." She nodded eventually. "Am I to assume we have a new Queen?"

"We do." I nodded. "Queen Faelwen Nenuial. She's the one who warned me about what the Elders were up to… even if we did not know any of it until it was too late to stop it. You have my sincere apologies for that."

"It's alright Erynion." She assured me with a kind smile. "I suppose I shall get over it."

She was about to truly walk away, when something else occurred to me. She wasn't Tinúviel anymore, certainly wasn't Lalaith Mirloth; and she claimed not be Silbhé Arianna either… so what did that mean then?

"What should I call you?" I asked her.

She stopped, thinking it over for what seemed like quite a while, until eventually she answered:

"Call me Lindaew."

Two weeks later, a young lass rushed to the palace, half mad with worry, shouting that Lady Lindaew had collapsed in the middle of the preparations for the harvest and the celebrations of Mabon (the Autumnal Equinox). It was Thenidiel who explained what was wrong: "She needs Him." We both knew who 'He' was. "It's taken this long for her body to adapt to the change but now that she has… now that she's at peace with herself, her soul has begun wailing for her other half. She needs him, or she will go mad."

That made things simple, relatively, we needed to get her match. Knowing what needed to be done was easy, finding out a way to do it… not so much. Especially considering that no one in Asgard, not even the prince himself, remembered Tinúviel beyond the story some still told about the elven lady with the most beautiful voice in all the realms…

It was my match who thought of a plan in the end, and I went ahead with it. It was a complex matter, which required me to travel the Hidden Paths to Asgard, go through the city unseen, find Lady Sif (whom we still counted as friend, even though the spell made it so she didn't remember Tinúviel, nor the rest of us at all). I slipped her a potion prepared by Lady Medlinya, a member of Thenidiel's coven and the best potioneer among them. The brew broke the memory spell on Sif, bringing back everything to her, allowing her to recognize me, and to agree to help me, once the plan was shared with her.

Even with everything going to plan, I didn't quite understand why she was so willing to help me, especially considering that the main part of the idea consisted of pretty much kidnapping a prince of Asgard and taking him to Alfheim in secret. And then I saw the prince in question… locked inside his room, laying on his bed, and looking half dead…

"He's been like that for the last three days." She explained softly. "No one knows though. I've managed to keep Thor away, and no one except I can get into his rooms when he seals them..." She made a pause as she thought that fact over. "Until an hour ago I didn't even remember why that was. Never thought twice about it either."

"You're his friend Sif, even if neither of you remembered it, exactly, there was a part of you that just knew." I told her as kindly as I could.

"Well, right now you're his best hope." She told me, getting down to business. "We need to get him out of here unseen, and to her..."

"Lindaew, she's going by Lindaew nowadays." I answered the unasked question.

"Singing bird..." She murmured. "It's a fitting name. And less infamous than Tinúviel."

"Certainly..." I paused just before taking hold of the prince. "You are aware of the potential consequences to this, right? As far as the rest of Asgard, particularly the Allfather will be concerned, I am abducting a prince of the Realm Eternal… and you're aiding me."

"Loki's rooms are shielded, and I know how to go through Asgard unseen, no one will ever know I helped you, or that it was you who took the prince." She pointed out evenly.

"We also know that if all goes well he won't be coming back, sooner or later Asgard will discover their second prince is gone." I replied evenly.

"With his track record, they'll probably think he ran off somewhere, or played a bad prank on someone and deciding to hide away until the effects pass."

"Running off? Hiding away? Is that really what Asgard thinks of its prince these days? That he's a bloody coward?!"

"You have no idea what that memory enchantment has done to some people here… to us all really. I myself cannot fully understand it even now. That spell… it did more than just make us forget about Tinúviel… a lot more… and I don't understand…!"

Neither did I. But as worrying as the fact that such a complex enchantment had had unplanned side-effects might be, I couldn't focus on that in that moment. Loki was my focus, Loki and my own soul-sister.

Sif was right, we made it out of Asgard unseen. She helped me carry the unconscious and half-feverish Loki through the Path closest to the palace, which exited onto a small ledge, just bellow Tinúviel's sanctuary. It was a bit of a tricky thing, getting him out from there, but we managed. The moment we laid him down on the bed beside the unconscious, restless Lindaew, the moment their skins touched, both went limp so fast I nearly had a stroke. Until I noticed it was a good thing, they'd calmed, and not only that, their bodies were in sync; breathing and heartbeat in harmony with one another.

According to Sif (who took to visiting us regularly, became friends to us all), it took until the end of the week for Thor and the Warriors Three to finally notice that Loki was missing, a month to begin to suspect that there was something off with his absence, and three for the Allfather to admit that something was wrong. Even then they refused to declare him missing, or make any official announcements. I thought it was ridiculous; someone could have murdered or abducted their prince (someone technically had done the latter, really) and they were doing nothing about it! It was incomprehensible!

It took nearly a full day and night for Loki and Lindaew to fully recover from the strain; they slept for most of that time, and when they woke he remembered everything from the past, and even appeared to have gained some of his match's memories, just like she gained some of his. It was insane, to see them as a perfect match, like an old married couple, and then consider that she physically was a six-year-old child.

Alfheim had practically no contact with other realms, we'd become pretty isolationist since the loss of our princess, and that served us well. It was less likely that news of Prince Loki living among us would reach Asgard that way. Though, just in case, Lindaew insisted on giving him a new name, she called him Tegalad, which means 'light bringer' (lit. bringing light), as a tribute to their daughter: Helena.

On Samhain the two of them actually went missing, though I wasn't surprised at all, it was Lady Helena's birthday, after all; and if two of the living could be expected to be able to walk among the dead and return to the living… it'd be those two. I was right.

The next big surprise we got, a year or so after it all began, was when Sif arrived accompanied by another. Lady Ylva was a very beautiful woman, with pale blue eyes and long straw-blonde hair in a light-blue dress and a red hooded cloak covering her; a Valkyrie, and once the head of Tinúviel's handmaidens, as well as her bodyguard… she was also the mate of Fenrir, known by some as the 'demonic wolf'. A were-creature who'd been raised by Loki from infancy, who was as good as his son; he was the reason why Ylva was there.

"When the enchantment was cast I forgot, like everyone else." She explained. "We didn't just forget Lady Tinúviel, we forgot almost everything that related to her: the marriage, her status, the deals with Alfheim, friendships… even Princess Helena seemed to be half-forgotten in all the madness. And certainly the reason for the Prince's erratic attitude."

"And how come you remember, and no one else does?" Loki asked her, curious.

"For the very same reason you remember, my lord." She answered with a small smile. "The spell could make me forget everything… except the love of my match. Our bond… it was the two of you who blessed it. Fenrir never forgot, I don't know if the way the enchantment was cast didn't take him into account or if something about him simply allowed him to remain untouched. He never forgot, and my bond to him allowed me to remember. I've been waiting all this time for… something, anything, a sign… and then you went missing my Prince… you went missing, and Prince Thor kept looking concerned and angered at turns, and the Warriors Three kept trying to calm him down… and Sif never seemed concerned. It's when I suspected she knew what was really going on. I remembered her friendship with the two of you, and with me, I knew if anyone knew anything at all, it'd be her."

I later on also learned that the red hooded cloak wasn't an accident, it had been a wedding gift from Loki and it was enchanted to allow her to go unnoticed. It was what allowed her to visit her mate without calling attention to herself… and it would also allow her to visit Alfheim. Sif didn't have such, but then again, she was one of Prince Thor's closest friends, no one thought anything about her coming and going at her leisure; Ylva did not have such advantages.

For a while Lindaew and Tegalad lived in seclusion in Jewel Forest, in the old property of the Mirloth line, abandoned since the passing of Tinúviel's mother. All boons had been granted to her without hesitation, which would have allowed them both to live without a worry, without any need for work. Yet that wasn't the kind of people they were, either of them. It took no time for them to begin lending their gifts to the service of others: Lindaew's healing, her empathy, even her voice at times; Tegalad's magic and extensive knowledge; and the talent both of them possessed as negotiators, mediators. And it didn't stop in Jewel Forest, soon enough they were taking trips to other communities to help as well. It didn't matter if the one who needed them had many riches which to offer them in return, or nothing at all, they helped everyone equally.

Tegalad helped Lindaew, and soon enough she was fighting just as well as she had in her previous life. That wasn't quite as needed, or at least not at first; not until the day news reached our ears that Marauders were ravaging Noirinan. What happened that day… it's something I hope will never, ever happen again, I wish never again to see the look that came to Lindaew's eyes that day, her expression as she tore into us all.

The two of them arrived to Faerûn in a rush of hooves. It was the first time I got the chance to truly see Tegalad's disguise. Never knew for sure when or how it began, aside from some rumors that it was an additional layer or protection, meant to ensure no one in Asgard would ever had reason to suspect about Loki's whereabouts.

It was the kind of disguise no one would ever suspect or expect… it was a woman. She was 3 or 4 inches short of Tegalad's original height, with alabaster skin lightly tanned by the sun, green eyes (which looked the same regardless), sharp features and long obsidian black hair that fell beyond the middle of her back when straight, and a bit higher when in its natural curls. She favored the color black for her battle dresses and golden armor. Her name was simple enough to divine: Tegaladwen.

They jumped off the two horses as soon as they reached the doors to the palace and pretty much landed running. Lindaew going first, announcing they had heard the news of the Marauders and were ready to join the next squad to be sent to aid those in Noirinan… only to learn no one was being sent, no one had been sent.

Even to me, even to the Queen, it didn't seem that important. Noirinan was the farthest settlement from Faerûn, in the far north, in the darkest, driest part of our realm, the worst place to live. So much that its only inhabitants were those who could not be anywhere else, those who'd been exiled from their towns, disavowed by their clans, the outcasts…

"What do you mean no help is being sent?!" For the first time in all our lives, (and in both of hers), she truly lost it and shrieked. "Those are still Ljósálfar, they're still our people. You believe that because no noble bloodlines live there, because no princess hails from there, that somehow makes them less worthy? They're still elves!" She stared straight at our queen. "They're still your children, Your Majesty! They deserve as much of your grace, your care, compassion and protection as everyone else in this realm!"

It was moments like that, that made some wonder why she wasn't our Queen, she was so full of Compassion and Devotion, so intense about the protection of those who might need help… then she turned eyes to her match, and that reminded us why she wasn't our Queen.

"It is sad, you know?" She murmured, without really looking at any of us anymore. "If we cannot bring ourselves to look after our own people, how can the Nine Realms ever be expected to stand together…?" She let out a sigh and turned away.

Tegaladwen extended a hand to her and both walked away, hand in hand.

"Where are you going?" One of the princesses (I paid no mind to who) asked her.

"To offer aid to those who need it." Tegaladwen answered calmly.

By the time I thought to follow them it was too late. They were gone, though the horses were there still. They'd shadow-walked, which meant there was no way any of us would be able to catch up.

Queen Faelwen did send some of us to Noirinan in the end, though by the time we made it (the trip took several days) it was all over and done already. Songs were sung and poems written about what happened that day, the day that two elven maidens stepped out of the shadows, onto the Valley of the Tombs and fought the Marauders in defense of those every community of Ljósálfar saw as less, those who seemed to have been abandoned by everyone in their own realm. It was them who gave the two ladies the title of Thaliel, the valiant maidens who'd defended them, fought for them: one in a long, light, sleeveless violet dress and simple sandals, wielding a long staff made of white-ash wood and inlaid with mithril; the other dressed in black and gold, with heavy boots and long swords in her hands. They also each carried a bow and a quiver of arrows, though those were hardly used, as they were in close-combat. Then there was the magic, sharp and almost-wild, wielded by both with perfect accuracy (and until that moment no one had known that their bond allowed Lindaew to wield Tegaladwen's magic as if it were her own). It was on that day that the legend of the Thalill (plural for Thaliel) was born.

Ten years after first arriving to Alfheim (and everything that had followed), Lindaew and Tegalad were wed in a very private ceremony. Some did not quite agree with it happening so soon, seeing Lindaew as little more than a child, at her sixteen years of age. She refused to allow that to stop her, and when some tried to insist she delivered yet another speech citing, among other things, the fact that she was already married to her match, had been for more than a century, all she wanted was to make it official, binding, in her current life as well. Also, thanks to the ritual the Elders had subjected her to, she wasn't a child anymore, she'd stopped being one at six-years old! That she'd waited a decade to bring the matter up was a miracle in and of itself!

And so the wedding happened. Thenidiel and I were two of their witnesses, along with Sif and Ylva. Queen Faelwen and the Sisterhood had sent her congratulations but did not try to join in the event; knowing that while they held Lindaew in high-regard, they didn't know her, not the real her… only the legend the Elders had promoted after the Allfather's enchantment.

Three years later, something happened that none of us could have ever expected… It'd been the Queen's idea to, after so many years, extend a hand of friendship to Jotunheim, hoping for a truce with them. Some thought her to be crazy, but the Sisterhood gave their support, and so talks began. King Laufey sent his youngest son: Prince Helblindi, which some saw as an insult, as he was less likely to inherit than his older brother: Prince Býleistr. Though, on the other hand, Prince Helblindi was much more polite and willing to treat with elves.

Even then, none of us saw it coming, the day Lady Elanor, a handmaiden, rushed to me in secret, pleading for a way to get in touch with Lindaew. No matter how much I insisted, she refused to tell me what was going on, and in the end I felt compassion for her, and admired her loyalty, so I made arrangements for Lindaew to see her in her next visit (Queen Faelwen insisted on meeting her and Tegaladwen every other moon to be informed of recent events, and things that she usually wouldn't know of, either because the Sisterhood didn't know, or someone didn't believe she should concern herself with such matters).

I wasn't expecting it when, upon their arrival, we were all guided straight to Princess Merenwen's private quarters. She was the youngest member of the Sisterhood and had kept herself secluded for over a month. That was the day I learned why:

"How did you know?" Lindaew asked, a touch of curiosity to her voice.

I had no idea what she meant, though it was obvious the others did.

"I… I have a touch of the Sight, my lady." Elanor admitted quietly. "Not enough to call the attention of any of the covens, but enough to be able to See..."

"You saw through my glamour." Tegaladwen finished for her.

"Yes." Elanor nodded shyly. "It's… I see the image you project, but I can see through it at the same time. To your blue skin..."

I understood it then, and I had no idea what to say. I was so sure Thenidiel and I were the only ones in Alfheim who knew the truth about the prince's heritage. Then again, we never expected someone to have a gift quite like Lady Elanor's.

"You've known all along, yet you said nothing until now." Tegaladwen stated, brow arched. "Why now?"

"Because of me." Another voice announced.

We all turned then and saw none other than Princess Merenwen approaching, she was wearing a simple mint-green dress… and was quite obviously pregnant.

"Oh..." None of us knew quite what to say.

It turned out to be more complex than I imagined at the beginning. It wasn't just that Princess Merenwen was pregnant with a half-Jotun child, and she had no support from her family (on that end things were actually even worse, as the family was quite willing to kill Merenwen to get rid of the 'abomination' as they referred to the child). That was Lindaew's first intervention on the matter, she defended Merenwen's choice with such passion and vehemence that in the end she managed to make everyone against it ashamed of themselves.

It wasn't all. Pregnant, Lady Merenwen couldn't remain a princess, but she did not go back to her family either. On the one hand, as she confided to us, she didn't trust them not to hurt her and the baby; on the other, they simply didn't know what to do with her. Because Lady Merenwen was dying, and there was nothing anyone at all, not even Lindaew with her prodigious healing could do to stop that.

"Her body cannot deal with this pregnancy." She explained to me once. "You see, Jotun don't just command the ice, they effectively Are ice. Its power runs in their veins and under their skin. They naturally run at a temperature considerably lower than any other living being in the Nine Realms. It's why they give frostbite… they can control that, with time and training… but a newborn baby… or an unborn one." She let out a breath. "Merenwen is effectively being frozen from the inside-out by her child. We… my match and I can use our magic to stave it off as long as possible, hopefully long enough for her to reach the end of the pregnancy… but she will not survive the birth, that's for sure."

"You did not die." I couldn't help but point out. "You had Princess Helena and..."

"I had a child with my match." I reminded him. "Yes, I was a she-elf, and he's a Jotun, on that we're the same. But we're a match, that's the difference. Our bond allows my body to deal with and adapt to the ice in him, in a way Merenwen will never be able to."

"Does she know?" I finally asked.

"She does." Lindaew nodded grimly. "We explained everything very clearly to her. It was her choice to go through with the pregnancy anyway."

"What will happen… afterwards?"

"The baby will stay with us. Even with the change of heart of Merenwen's family, they cannot raise a half-Jotun child, it's beyond them. So we'll do it. We'll take care of the baby. Also, Elanor has asked to stay with us, to help us, and we agreed."

I nodded, I'd already expected that Lady Elanor wouldn't want to go back to Faerûn. It'd worried me, as orphans had few options available to them, being handmaiden was one of the best for them, though it was unsurprising, that she wouldn't want to be that. Lady Elanor was close to Lady Merenwen, like an older sister… it was natural there would be grief.

"It seems you'll have quite the busy life in a few months, caring for a new baby." I offered with a small smile.

"Two." She told me unexpectedly.

"What…?" For several seconds I couldn't be sure she'd really said what I thought she had.

"Two babies." She clarified, pressing a hand to her middle. "I'm pregnant Erynion..."

Merenwen gave birth to her only son in the middle of the longest night of the year. She named him Rhîwiôn and got to spend a few hours holding him in her arms, thanks to some heavy spells from Loki; though she still passed away minutes before dawn.

Tawariel, Merenwen's oldest sister, who was still weaning her youngest daughter off her breast-milk, offered herself as a wet-nurse for the baby; and with some help from Tegalad's magic they managed to do it without her risking frostbite.

Lindaew gave birth to her baby on Ostara, named her Meril, which brought a tear to some of us (those who knew that was the name she'd chosen before, for the baby Amora's black magic took from them, just before it took Tinúviel herself). Tegalad's delight was obvious to all who saw him, he was absolute proud of all three of his children (even if Helena wasn't actually in Alfheim; and couldn't be, as her presence would have called the wrong kind of attention).

From what I was told later on, at some point a message was sent to Prince Helblindi, to inform him of the birth of his son. He had no interest in claiming the babe explaining that, as a runt, his chances for survival in Jotunheim would be small, he was alright with the boy having a new family and never getting in touch with him. Apparently he didn't even care to ask who exactly was taking care of the boy, or his name… it was decided that was for the best.

Tegalad, for his part, took to allowing himself to go blue every so often. While he used his magic to help Rhîwiôn take on a more aesir/elven like form, he refused to hide the boy's heritage, to in any way suggest there was something wrong with it, something to be ashamed of. We could all see it was a very personal matter to him, so no one commented on it. At first there was some level of unrest, but with some time the elves began seeing that, while his skin might be blue, Tegalad was nothing like that, which also made it easier for them all to accept Rhîwiôn as he grew. Making it easier for him to accept his own heritage.

The sound of hooves stopped right then and I watched Lindaew and Tegaladwen jump off their mounts, letting stable-hands take them as they approached the palace entrance, where I stood.

"Is anything wrong?" Lindaew asked, concerned, obviously not expecting me there.

"Nothing at all." I assured her with a smile. "The Convergence passed without event; not here or in Midgard, where we expected there might be trouble though..."

"Though…?" Tegaladwen arched an elegant brow.

"Thenidiel says something's happening, but we don't know what, or where exactly." I admitted. "Whatever it might be, it's occluded from her."

And considering that my match was the most talented Seer in Alfheim… that was something to give us all pause.

"We should go into the meeting." Tegaladwen decided eventually. "If something is coming, we'll find out eventually."

She was right, of course. What none of us knew was that something wasn't coming our way, no, the threat was elsewhere… and it was already there.

xXx Nightingale's POV xXx

Several hours had passed since our arrival to the palace, and the meeting was finally nearing its end. It was boring, as most such meetings went. Despite how messy and risky an event like the Convergence could be, all reports brought back stated that nothing had happened. Not in Alfheim and not even in Midgard, where a number of spellweavers had gone to check on things (being the center of the connections formed by Yggdrasil, there was always more danger of something happening there than in any other realm).

Eventually the Elders took their leave, always the first to do so. My match and I had to stay for a while yet, as we passed on to the Queen and the Princesses whatever news we believed they needed to know, which we thought (knew) the Elders and Protectors would not have imparted, either because they did not believe them to be relevant, or in attempt to hide something from them. It wasn't as bad as when we'd begun our rather odd relationship with the court, in the aftermath of the mess in Noirinan.

Back then it had been bad. Even when I was Tinúviel, I'd known I couldn't save everyone. But back then Noirinan had been nothing more than an abandoned settlement, the Valley of the Tombs, as it was commonly known, the place where a tribe had died and nothing but ruins, graves and their ghosts remained… I had no idea when exactly elves had begun living there again, or even why, but the thought that they'd been abandoned, by the rest of the communities and even the court for however many years… it hurt. Even more so the idea that even the Queen saw it as something natural, saw nothing wrong with it…

Things had improved since then, Noirinan still had no princess to represent them, but that was alright with them, they knew they were no longer forgotten and that was enough.

There weren't that many things for us to share with the Queen and the Princesses that we thought they might not know, and the majority of them were minor things and not in any way something to worry about. Soon enough we were talking about that year's Midsummer festival, which was still a good number of weeks away; after all, not quite a week had passed since Beltane. The meeting had devolved into little more than some chatting when the doors were unexpectedly burst open by one of the servants.

"My Queen! My Ladies!" The young elf cried out in a rush. "The Lady Sif is here."

"Oh, that's a nice surprise..." One of the Princesses murmured.

It wasn't just us that saw Sif as a friend anymore, many liked her. Several of the Sisterhood had even asked her to train them a little, just enough so they might be able to protect themselves in case of an emergency. None might be interested in being thalill, like Tegaladwen and I were, but still, it was more than I'd have once imagined possible.

"Why isn't she here?" I suddenly got a very bad feeling about it all.

"Brethil!" The servant cried out, looking at me with wide eyes.

Brethil, it was sindarin for princess (unlike the Sisterhood, who answered to the title of Aranel, while the Queen was referred to as Tári) and what most of the Ljósálfar called me; those who did not know me well especially, who accepted that I was a reincarnation, and that as a match I couldn't take their crown, yet at the same time refused to stop seeing me as a royal of some kind. It was sort of like being the 'princess of the people'; according to my match, the fact that I kept doing all I could do help them, no matter what, only cemented their belief. All things told, my love was probably right.

"She's badly hurt!" The servant finished right then.

That was all I needed to her, I was moving before I was even aware of it, rushing past him and down the hall, surrendering to the mix of magical instincts granted by my bond to my match, and my elven senses to track down Sif.

She was actually just off the main hall, swaying in place even as she held onto the wall; her skin was covered in bruises, some grime and blood and while I couldn't see too many bleeding wounds, the fact that it was so and she still looked about to collapse only worried me more. I reached her side just in time for a controlled fall (because there was no way I'd have ever been strong enough to hold her up).

"What happened?!" I cried out, too shocked to soften my tone.

"Asgard… is under siege." She managed to croak under her breath before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fell limp in my arms.

"Sif!" I cried out, shocked.

My love slid next to me right as I finally managed to focus enough to call on my healing and begin working on her.

"What happened?" Tegaladwen asked me softly.

"Something is very, very wrong in Asgard." I answered grimly.

So we finally knew where the trouble Thenidiel could only half-foresee was; we still had no idea what was going on, exactly. Only that it was bad, for an enemy, any enemy, to be able to lay siege to the Realm Eternal… it was no mean feat. Even if we'd chosen to stay in Alfheim thus far, not wanting to go to Asgard and face the fact that no one would remember me, that they might not believe our claims that we were a match… that did not change the fact that there were people there we loved: like Ylva, Fenrir, Thor, Lady Frigg, even Odin.

It was actually worse than we imagined, as we found out eventually. I'd done my best to heal Sif, but it was hard to heal things I couldn't see, so in the end my Maverick decided to take the plunge and went into her head in an attempt to see how she'd gotten injured exactly, and perhaps guess at what injuries we might be missing. He got that… and a whole lot more:

"Svartalfar..." My match practically hissed the word.

We were all sitting in a small meeting room, just off the infirmary, where Sif was resting, finally recovering from her wounds, and my consort was sharing with not only myself, but also Erynion, Thenidiel, Queen Faelwen and two of the Elders, what he'd discovered in Sif's mind.

"Remember how we all knew something was coming?" Tegaladwen didn't want for a reply, just kept on talking. "Well, it's not coming, it's already here… or more precisely, in Asgard. It would seem that Father, and Grandfather before him lied to their people, and the Nine Realms as a whole. We were told that in the battle against the Svartalfar, five thousand years ago they were all killed, up to the last of them, and that the weapon they intended to use to plunge the realms into darknes, the Aether, had been destroyed. Both of those were lies. While most dark-elves were, indeed, killed, a number survived, fleeing in several ships, including their king: Malekith, and his personal guard. As for the Aether… there is no way it could have been destroyed, as it is one of the Infinity Stones."

"Singularities cannot be destroyed." Thenidiel murmured in agreement.

"Has the Aether been found?" Erynion focused on what he saw as the biggest risk first.

"No, wherever King Bor left it, it must still remain there." My consort shook her head. "And I know for a fact it is not in the Royal Vault in Asgard. Also, with the Convergence passed, the danger lessens, Malekith cannot plunge the realms into Eternal Darkness without it."

"Thank the stars for small mercies..." Queen Faelwen whispered softly.

"Indeed." I agreed. "Though something tells me that's not the end of the tale; not if, as Sif said before falling unconscious, Asgard is under siege right now."

"It's not the end, indeed." My love agreed. "It seems that the Convergence called Malekith and his followers from wherever they've been hiding. He lead an attack on Asgard, believing the Aether to be there; he was not kind when discovering otherwise. The magical shield is the only reason the Svartalfar haven't managed to take the realm yet, and even then, holding it up has tied Mother and all the Spellweavers into place. Also, the shield is only shielding half of what it could have under normal circumstances, as one of the anchors was damaged too much."

Which also meant that the shield was less durable than it would be otherwise.

"Why haven't they managed to fight off the invasion yet?" Erynion asked.

My match let out a breath and I could sense his restlessness. I just knew the worst part was yet to come… I was right.

"It'd seem Malekith was particularly clever when planning his attack, and we're not the only ones who've been having troubles with Marauders in recent years." My beloved pointed out. "They used the opportunity to send agents inside, one of them, which turned into a Kursed, allowing it to break out of its cell, and break others out. It was a mess." She shook her head. "To make matters worse, one of those prisoners is Lorelei. She managed to enslave all the guards appointed to the prison, as well as the squads that were sent after the prisoners before the King understood the futility of it. Also..."

She looked straight at me then, and the expression in her eyes, the shadow in them, told me I was definitely not going to like what she said next…

"She used some very dark magic to bring back the dead..." I didn't need her to say the next part, that much was enough, but she said it anyway. "She brought back Amora."

I just couldn't hold myself back, I began cursing, in a mix of Old Norse, English, Khuzdul (the dwarven tongue) and even some Sindarin and Quenya. It was the last part which shocked the Queen most; probably because she had never heard me cuss, or quite possibly because most people did not believe one could even curse in elvish… My match and Erynion knew better.

In that moment a part of me wanted to cry, to wail and sob and hide away, complaining about the injustices in the world, take my pain and use it like a cloak, to hide the fear and the horror that had filled me the last time I stood before Amora, when I lost my unborn baby, nearly watched my eldest die as well, and eventually lost my own life. Yet that feeling did not last, it couldn't. That was the kind of thing Tinúviel would have done, because as much as I might have gone beyond expectations and prided myself on 'breaking rules' when I was her, even then I'd limited myself, had been afraid to go 'too far'. Tinúviel had never been a warrior, not really… I was. I was a warrior-lady, I was Thaliel, and proud of it. I had the power and the skill to stand beside my match, to stand and fight by him, to protect those I cared for. Amora might have killed my past life, but I wouldn't let her hurt me in this one, and that meant not letting her scare me either. I would stand by my match, and we'd fight together.

I didn't even need to say a word, he'd followed the whole line of thought through our bond, we were on the same page. A battle was coming, and we'd fight it together.

xXx 3rd Person POV xXx

In a small cottage, in a half-forgotten corner of Asgard, the Warriors Three did their best to tend to their wounded prince as he laid on the bed, twisting and turning in a restless sleep, he was sweating cold, moaning broken words.

"What are we supposed to do?" A blonde, blue eyed man, known by most as Fandral the Dashing, demanded. "Wait here until he wakes up or he dies?"

"Sif promised to get help..." The big redhead, Volstagg, began.

"Sif's gone, she's been gone for a whole day and night, as has her Valkyrie friend." Fandral retorted. "For all we know they could both be dead. We cannot wait forever."

"Good to see how much faith you have in me, Fandral." A female voice intervened.

Fandral and Volstagg almost jumped in place when noticing they weren't alone anymore (Hogun shifted minutely), particularly since none of them had heard the door opening. Then they noticed something else: Sif wasn't alone. Three women and one man were with her, all looking at least part elven, except for how short one of the women was.

"I told you I'd bring help, and so I have." Sif informed them. "Meet Lord Erynion, Protector, Lady Thenidiel, Mistress Spellweaver; and the Thalill: Lindaew and Tegaladwen."

They each pushed back the hoods of their cloaks as they were introduced. Lindaew just waited a moment more before moving past them all and to the prince's side.

"Hey Lady!" Fandral yelled, pulling out a knife. "Stop right there!"

Tegaladwen moved before anyone could say anything else, using one hand to twist Fandral's wrist enough to force him to drop his blade, before placing a dagger of her own against the blonde Aesir's throat.

"You raise a blade against my match again and I will end you." She hissed into his ear. "Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes… my lady..." Fandral muttered back.

For a moment it looked like Volstagg might say something, but Hogun's quiet murmur called everyone's attention. He was standing on the corner closest to the bed where Prince Thor lay. Lindaew was perched on the edge of the bed on the opposite side, and her hands were hovering half an inch or so above him.

"He's been poisoned." She announced. "Magically poisoned."

"Amora..." Tegaladwen practically snarled.

"Indeed." Lindaew agreed, pulling her hands back and seemingly considering options.

"You're the Brethil." The Vanir of the group, Hogun, said right then.

"Brethil?" Fandral and Volstagg asked at the same time.

"It's Sindarin for 'princess'." Hogun explained. "Since that is not the form of elvish that royalty and nobility speak, it's a way of calling her the 'princess of the people'." His eyes turned towards the she-elf in question. "I've heard of you my lady, the Brethil, the reincarnated princess who refused to wear a crown in this life, out of love for her match. It is said that you're a blessed healer, as well as a warrior-lady."

"I am." Lindaew answered simply.

She sincerely believed that Hogun wasn't saying all he knew, or her story had become over-simplified in the retelling. Not that it made much of a difference in the long run.

"Can you heal him?" Hogun wanted to know.

"Magical poisoning is a delicate matter." The auburn-haired she-elf admitted. "I'm familiar with Amora's magic, which helps. Under normal circumstances I'd need to draw out some of the magic poisoning Prince Thor in order to build an enchantment around it, to draw it out and then burn it, once it's no longer in him..."

"Under normal circumstances…?" Volstagg repeated, suspecting that to be significant.

"We don't have the time for any of that right now." Lindaew announced.

Then, to everyone's shock, she drew a very small blade from where she kept it hidden in her hair and used it to make a small, somewhat superficial cut near the base of her palm. It wasn't too bad, but enough to make it bleed; she then directed the drops of blood to the Prince's lips, waiting until several drops had fallen into his mouth, then pulled back.

"What the…?!" There were broken exclamations from the Warriors Three.

"What did you just do?!" Fandral demanded, once again unable to do much due to Tegaladwen's hold on him.

"I am a healer, Warrior Fandral." She informed him evenly. "Healing is inside me, it's a part of my soul, and in my very blood. This is not the preferred way for my gift to be used, but it will work better in this instance."

She did not tell them that the kind of thing she'd done didn't work with just anyone, only with those she'd claimed as family. And she had claimed Thor once, a long time before, when she was Tinúviel. And it wouldn't have worked at all (her being a reincarnation and all) if it weren't for the ritual the Elders had subjected her to, when she was six-years-old; that hadn't just pulled back memories and her bond with Loki, it had also brought back a lot more. There was a reason why she'd insisted so vehemently that she wasn't the girl she'd been anymore… she'd actually been closer to being Tinúviel, yet had refused that on principle alone, refusing to let them get exactly what they wanted.

It took no time for the cut to heal, and then Tegaladwen took control and began explaining what was going to happen exactly:

"Lindaew and I will handle Amora and Malekith respectively." She informed the Aesir stoically. "Thenidiel And Erynion will take care of releasing the men under Lorelei's spell."

"It's risky for men to go anywhere near her." Volstagg pointed out. "We've lost many already."

"It's not risky for me." Erynion informed him calmly. "I'm a matched elf, she cannot enslave me, for my soul is already bound to another."

It was clear that no one knew quite what to say to that; thankfully no one was really waiting for an answer. They went on.

"The rest of you will be needed to deal with the Svartalfar army, the Kursed and the enslaved men until they are released." Tegaladwen went on. "Leave Lorelei to one of the Valkyries or..."

"I'll handle her myself." Sif announced right then. "Also, remember Ylva and Fenrir will be arriving at any moment."

"I still don't understand how you think that's even possible." Fandral stated coldly. "The Demon Wolf is imprisoned and for good reason..."

"Really?" Lindaew cut him off coldly. "And you know this how? Were you there for it?"

No one but she noticed how tense Tegaladwen had become at the name the blonde had used for Fenrir, like a coil about to spring.

"Everyone knows..." Fandral began.

"You ought to be careful about the things you state as truth, while only knowing about them second-hand, for when they prove to be wrong, they will also prove yourself to be a fool." The auburn-haired she-elf told him in a chastising manner.

Fandral was offended by that, but before he could reply, his friends stopped him; which was probably a good thing.

"What makes you so sure the Lady Ylva can free him?" Hogun inquired simply.

His question got no answer, though the Thalill snorted as they sent a look at each other. If the Aesir only knew that Ylva had always had the means to release Fenrir…

"Do the best you can to keep civilians safe." Lindaew spoke up, pulling them all back on task. "Things will get the most dangerous when they notice we have the means to fight back."

"What makes you so sure you can take on Malekith and Amora?" Volstagg asked, head cocked to a side in confusion. "All who've tried to go against them since the attack began have died… or ended much like Thor."

"None of them were sorcerers." Tegaladwen answered simply.

That part was obvious enough, since all sorcerers, Lady Frigg included, were busy keeping the shield protecting about half the palace and all that managed to get inside in time, up.

"No time for more talk." Tegaladwen said before any more questions could be asked. "We need to get going. You should wait for T… Prince Thor to awaken and then join us."

"Valto." Sif wished them formally.

It was an ancient word, in an older form of Quenya; no one among the living knew anymore what it meant literally, only that it was meant to express good luck, or a wish for it.

"Valto." The four residents from Alfheim replied in unison, and then they were gone.

Sif wasn't sure what instinct pushed her to it, exactly, but she chose to wait. It was probably a good thing, considering that when Thor woke up, a few minutes later, he did so screaming, a single word… in Sindarin:

"Nethel!" He cried out as he sat up abruptly.

"Thor!" Everyone around him cried out at the same time.

The blonde prince blinked several times before focusing all his attention on Sif, as if he somehow knew she was the one with the answers.

"Yes." She answered the unasked questions. "They've gone to fight Amora and Malekith."

And somehow that really was enough to tell Thor everything he wanted/needed to know. In a moment he was back on his feet.

"What are we waiting for then?" He asked simply. "Lets get going!"

"What exactly just happened there?!" Fandral demanded, even as he followed.

He got no answer.

They had to walk a bit through the forest to reach the main part of Asgard where the battle was taking place. Few people knew it, but the cottage where they'd taken refuge actually belonged to Loki, it was warded against prying eyes, and anyone with ill will against those who might take refuge inside; which was why Thor and his friends hadn't been found while inside. What none of them knew was that it was only Loki's prevailing love for his adopted brother that had allowed any of them to even find the cabin when they needed a place to lay low and see to Thor's wound and poisoning.

They made it back to the site of the siege-turned-battle just in time to see another form emerge from the forest (from a different area than where they'd been). It was Fenrir and Ylva, and they cut a quite powerful image: a huge wolf, bigger than even Sleipnir, with thick black-as-night fur and silver eyes; riding on its back was Ylva, in a pale-blue battle dress with white boots and gloves, white-gold armor (chest-piece, arm-guards and a mesh beneath her dress and sleeves); and then there was the long, red hooded cloak covering her and trailing behind her and Fenrir both like a pennant. Between her fingers, the Valkyrie held two sets of stiletto daggers, her weapons of choice, and which she wielded to deadly effect; all the while keeping herself astride Fenrir with just her thighs, never once stumbling or slipping, the two of them in perfect sync. Yes, a quite powerful image they portrayed indeed.

Most people (Aesir and Svartalf both) were still recovering from the shock of Fenrir's and Ylva's sudden appearance, when the next surprise came. In the form of the two figures who threw themselves against Malekith and Amora in tandem. Both warrior-ladies, the first tall, with long obsidian-black hair cascading down her back, jade-green eyes, dressed in black leather and golden armor, holding a pair of long swords; the second shorter, with long auburn curls and hazel eyes, wearing a simple looking long sleeveless lilac dress, in her hands a long white-ash staff inlaid with mithril.

Elsewhere Lorelei screeched as she noticed her puppets being torn away from her; she didn't get the chance to worry about it for long, as soon enough she had something else she needed to focus on (or someone): Sif.

"For Asgard!" Thor roared, at the same time he called Mjolnir to him, ready to join the battle.

It would be a good battle, he was sure about it. And how could it not be, when he was finally fighting once again side by side with his brother? (And his sister as well!)

xXx Nightingale's POV xXx

The battle was longer and far more vicious than anything any Aesir might be used to. For all they might pride themselves in being a warrior culture, I'd always believed their ideas of war to be simple at best, naïve at worst. Though perhaps it all stemmed from the fact that Asgardians were used to being the strongest at any given time; also, they'd been at the top for so long that they couldn't fathom anyone even challenging them, much less defeating them. It was why the Svartalfar attack was so effective, Asgard simply wasn't ready for an invasion, especially not one of such force, or viciousness.

For my part, the battle reminded me a bit of the battles I'd been involved in during the time my match and I'd spent in Midgard, in the years right after our marriage. Though at the very least, our prospects weren't quite so gloom as they'd been when we'd been assisting Kontar and Sharifa in Ancient Egypt.

Thinking about them, thinking about Midgard, brought up thoughts of my own life, my early childhood, everything I'd either lost or been forced to leave behind. More than once I'd gotten into my head the idea of going back, if only briefly, but I'd never gone through with it; that wasn't where I belonged anymore, hadn't been for more than fifteen years…

The Elders would never know just how much they'd taken from me… for that matter, neither would I, not really. After all, how can one truly know all they've lost, when they cannot even remember all they've had?

Battling against Amora was half-posturing, half real battle. It was worse than it'd been in the past, back when she kept trying to 'enchant' Thor into her bed (or both of them into his), and later on trying to kill me for ruining her best attempt at doing exactly that. The only real problem was that something in the very dark magic that had been used to bring her back from the dead, made it so she healed incredibly fast, so nothing I did seemed to be enough to kill her. That was really problematic, because aside from looping her head off, crushing her heart, or something else equally ghastly, I'd no idea how to take her down.

I was halfway through my fourth or so attempt into getting close enough to her to use my longest dagger, when I realized that in all my experience as a warrior-lady in recent years, I'd somehow forgotten that wasn't all I was. That I had been other things before, was still those things, and they mattered just as much.

I went back to myself just in time to see one of Amora's blades going for my face. I let instinct guide me: my legs folded beneath me and I dropped to my knees, rolling a bit to a side, then backwards and sliding back onto my feet a dagger in each hand (I'd dropped my staff at some point when it became unwieldy in such close quarters). Amora grinned at me predatory and we both watched a lock of auburn hair fall to the floor… that one had been close.

"I will kill you, little girl." She hissed at me.

"No, you won't." Not again.

We threw ourselves back into battle, though I recovered my staff and used it in order to keep some distance between us. She misinterpreted it as my conceding some sort of victory to her, admitting that I couldn't defeat her in close quarters. She'd no idea that while I effectively danced circles around her I was chanting under my breath, an entirely different spell.

Our attention was pulled away from each other when Lorelei let out a screech, which was abruptly cut off as Sif slit her throat, killing her.

Amora wailed her denial, but was interrupted by Malekith's own roar. My match had gone blue at some point, when all her swordsmanship and spellwork proved to simply not be enough to take the last King of the Svartalfar down (and considering I'd once almost been a Queen I couldn't help but feel disgusted by a being so willing to sacrifice his people, the very ones he should have protected, and for what? To plunge the universe into eternal darkness? It was insanity! It went against everything I believed a King or Queen was supposed to be). The ice was just what was needed, and in that very moment, we all heard Malekith's last roar, before he was effectively turned into an ice-statue, and then broken into pieces.

Amora's shock at finding herself without allies (and she couldn't have missed the way Lorelei's 'slaves' were long gone, and that most of the dark elves were dead already) was such that she did not move for several seconds, just enough to allow me to finish the spell under my breath and take my position before her.

"What are you doing?" The blonde Enchantress demanded, only then realizing that I was, in fact, doing something. "You cannot kill me!"

"Perhaps not, but that was never the point, was it?" I said in turn as I straightened and activated the long spell. "You're already dead Amora… and the dead do not belong among the living."

Before she could fully understand what my words meant, a seal lit up under her feet (I'd been tracing it, while 'dancing' around, with the edges of my staff). A figure emerged from her own shadow, one I recognized easily, even though I'd never seen her in the dark green cloak that covered her in that moment. Still, much as I wanted to greet her as she deserved, she'd been called through magic, and thus I bowed my head, respectful of her position.

The moment the tip of a finger touched her, Amora shrieked, she knew the touch of death, knew what it meant.

"You cannot do this to me!" She wailed.

"This has already been done Amora." I told her evenly. "You're dead, and whatever dark magicks might have been used to call you back… you do not belong here."

"No, she does not." The Queen of the Dead agreed.

There was an odd sound, like a snap, and we all saw the way Amora began withering before our eyes. It wouldn't happen in a second, but for all intents and purposes, it was done, she was finished… we'd won.

"Nana..." The green-cloaked figure called warmly.

She hadn't yet pushed back the hood of her cloak, but I didn't need her to, I knew her face almost as well as I knew my own, I smiled.

Amora, much as she might not have been Ljósálfar, knew just enough of our language to realize what had just been said, she screeched again. The realization of her own failure the last thing her mind processed before she was gone. She, who had once taken such pleasure in killing me, in hurting my love so thoroughly, the last thing she knew in life, was that she'd failed, for I was back, and with my match, my family…

"Cala amin (my light)..." I greeted my eldest daughter.

And much as a part of me might have wanted to, I just couldn't make myself sound chastising. In fact, a part of me had taken great pleasure in that last screech of Amora's, in making her feel the failure, and die with it… much like I once did. Though that mattered no more, the failure was past, for I was back were I belonged, and I had no plans to leave any time soon.

Helena smiled at me, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking, and then she laughed; a tinkling laugh, like crystal bells. The two of us laughed together.

It was just the start, as laughter and cheers broke all around us. The battle was over, the siege was over, the enemies had been defeated… victory was ours.

xXx

The moment the battle was over I knew we couldn't just leave, I had to go and help as many people as I could, I was a healer after all. And even without my gift, Tegaladwen's and Thenidiel's magic allowed them to do some healing as well.

We began with those on the field, managed to save a few lives between all of us, and when the exhaustion grew too heavy, I pulled out an elven elixir and drank it all in one go. My spouse arched a brow at me, we both knew there were consequences to drinking a full dose of elixir, I was re-energized, yes, but that energy would run out eventually, and then it'd take me twice as long to recover. There was a limit of three elixir-doses, and getting to that point meant spending a full day and night in a healing sleep afterwards. Still, I was willing to endure it, if that meant being able to save more lives.

The man (a farmer) I was healing, and his family waiting around us all flinched the moment a huge black wolf padded to us. Ylva was walking beside him, red cloak trailing behind her, hood down and blonde hair wild around her face.

"Ylva… Fenrir..." I greeted them both with nods of the head, never moving my hands from where I was working my healing magic.

"It's good to see you again, Your Highness..." Ylva murmured respectfully.

Fenrir shook his head a couple of times before his whole form seemed to shiver, then the shadows swallowed him for a couple of seconds; and when they pulled back, there was a short-black-haired, silver eyed, tanned-skinned man dressed in black in his place.

"I believe nowadays they call you Brethil." He said in his deep, husky voice.

"My name is Lindaew, Fenrir, Ylva." I told them with a small smile. "It's good to see you both. Especially you Fen, it's been a long time..."

"That it has, little bird, that it has." The skinwalker agreed evenly.

I knew the Aesir around us probably had no idea what to think, how I could possibly know Ylva and especially Fenrir? And the idea that the 'demon wolf' as they referred to him, could become Aesir (or at least look like one). Very few people had ever known him, had any idea why he'd been imprisoned in the first place (that whole mess with Lady Idunn, the instincts that drove him to pursue her in a manner that she viewed as an attempt on her life… I would always regret not being able to help him, both my match and I did); I could only hope that the events of that day, the battle against Malekith, Amora and their armies, the fact that he'd fought with us, for Asgard, might help in the long run, might allow the people to see him as more than a demon. One thing I knew for sure, he wouldn't be imprisoned again, neither Ylva, my Maverick nor I would ever allow for that.

Eventually I did finish treating all those in the battlefield that I could treat, and who were willing to be treated by me. I was holding what would be the third bottle of elixir in my hand, pondering on my options, eyes on the golden palace.

"You do know that if you go in there will be no turning back?" My love asked quietly as he went to stand beside me. "No disguise will ever get past mother."

"Forget about that, you're past the turning point already." Sif informed us as she joined us. "Thor remembers you… both of you."

It took me but a second to understand how that must have happened, though the possibility had not crossed my mind when I decided it was a good idea to give him my blood. In any case, it was too late to regret it (not that I would, anyway).

"All the more reason to get moving then." I decided.

And so we got to work. Even inside the palace there were a great many people hurt, and I didn't want to even begin to think about all those who'd perished (I'd been avoiding thinking about that from the start).

The first attack had taken place the day before the climax of the Convergence, and the siege had begun less than a day later. Those had not been kind days for Asgard, not the warriors, and especially not the civilians. Even with our help it would take some time for the realm to fully recover, and it was unlikely such a tragedy would ever be forgotten.

That last, at least, might be a good thing. That they might learn not to trust everything they heard, just because of who was saying it. None of them had expected an attack, they were all so sure Malekith and the Svartalfar were gone, because King Bor had said so at the time… they'd know better now; I only wished the lesson hadn't come with so much blood and tears.

Hours later I was almost swaying with exhaustion when we were finally done, my last 'patients' had actually been the spellweavers who'd helped Lady Frigg keep the shield up, some of them had done everything in their power to draw the backlash from the cracking shield onto them, rather than let it pain the Queen… which had translated in some magical injuries (which only one with my gifts could heal).

My beloved was pretty much holding me up, guiding me across the room and towards the exit, when we were interrupted:

"Will you leave without even saying goodbye… my child?" Lady Frigg asked softly.

For a moment everyone in the room froze, even the two of us. There was nothing for it really, we'd known all along it'd happen. Tegaladwen was still blue, making a point on her own heritage and the fact that not all Jotun were enemies of Asgard, those around us had stopped flinching after a while (though I wasn't sure if it was because they understood, or they'd managed to convince themselves that my consort wasn't a Frost Giant…).

I just nodded once at my love and so she turned around, slowly allowing her form to change, from female to male, the black battle dress and golden armor shifted as well, into a linen dark-green tunic, leather pants and jacket, the armor was still gold, but made for his male form, rather than a female one, and his hair was much shorter, just grazing the top of his shoulders. The blue remained though, he held on like that for a handful of seconds, making a point before anyone who might see it, see his red eyes, the markings on him, then he allowed that to change too, back to alabaster skin and jade-green eyes.

"Oh Loki..." Lady Frigg breathed out. "My son..."

Just those words carried so much love, I could sense the way they filled my match inside. A second later he was in the Queen's embrace, and she and I were the only ones who heard the quiet gasp of 'Mother!' that abandoned his lips as he returned the embrace with the same force. He'd truly missed her.

They held onto each other for what seemed like forever and I said nothing, just stood there, somehow managing to remain standing despite the extreme exhaustion (which was making me really, really sleepy too). I blinked a moment too long, and when I forced my eyes open again, I noticed the Queen was looking straight at me:

"And who might you be, my lady?" She asked, head tilted to a side.

I could almost feel her seeing through me, or trying to at least; only she couldn't, the very spell that kept everyone else from understanding the truth, our past, kept her from seeing who I was, the bonds that connected me to the son of her heart…

"This is Lindaew Mirloth, of Jewel Forest, mother." Loki introduced me proudly. "She's my match and consort."

The next words to come out of my mouth… I did not plan them, they were instinctive, slipping from my lips as I dropped into a curtsy.

"Vedui' amal (Greetings mother)..."

My Maverick's eyes snapped towards me instantly, and I couldn't help the widening of my own eyes. Yet neither of us got the chance to even wonder at where that had come from exactly, as we both saw the moment Lady Frigg's expression changed, completely, in an instant, from curiosity and confusion to wonder and delight.

"Oh my darling!" She called brightly, before enveloping me in an embrace.

We had, neither of us, the slightest idea how it had happened exactly but somehow, miraculously, she remembered me. And, as we eventually found out, she wasn't the only one.

We never knew what it was that broke the spell, if it was my words, my voice, the intent behind them. Had it been that easy from the start? Could it have been done all along? Could we have been with family all those years? Could we have saved them all the distress of believing Loki missing for seventeen years? We had so many questions, and no answers.

*It matters not.* My love decided eventually. *Our lives are what they are, what we've made of them, and I do not regret a single moment.*

He was right, of course. How could we ever regret the amazing lives we had? Our friends, our extended family, the children… It was impossible to know what would have become of Rhîwiôn (and Elanor and Merenwen) if we hadn't been around, and the people in Noirinan… and all the others we'd helped at one time or another. No, things were as they were for a reason, and we were fortunate to have as good lives as we did.

The battle was over, we'd won. We'd saved as many lives as we possibly could. In the near future we'd need to rest (sleep a full day and night), and then we could begin making plans: checking in with Elanor, arranging for our children to meet the side of their family they didn't yet know, explain to Thor, Lady Frigg and the Allfather what had happened seventeen years prior, exactly; we'd also need to plan where we would be living in the long run (for as much as I might like Asgard, as we both might, we couldn't just drop everything we had built in Alfheim, all the people who loved us, and who depended on us). We needed to make sure that Fenrir wouldn't be imprisoned again (far as we were concerned, he'd long since paid for his mistake), perhaps then Ylva might be able to reveal her status as his consort, and they might have the family they'd always dreamed of and had never been able to have. And then… who knew? We'd worry about our next adventure when it came to us.

---

This particular AU is only OneShot, as was probably obvious. I hope you liked it.

As always, full sized poster/cover and set of wallpapers can be found on DeviantArt.

Next fic will be coming a day or two late, as I'm due for posting it in three weeks, and that week I'll be out of town. Specifically I'm going to Ohio for the Hispanic Book Fair my editor has organized, I was invited and will be doing a little presentation on my books and am one of two people who will be giving a talk about Fanfiction as a starting point for writers. If anyone's interested, you'd be welcome. The event focuses mainly on Hispanic literature/authors, and its free; some of you might like it.

So, the next and last AU will be coming in a little over three weeks. It's called "Horizon" and we're going back to AoS, Skye, a completely different story from Secret Warriors, I promise you, though some things at the core are the same. I'm sure you'll love it. Skyward fans be ready! I love writing that pairing...

So, see ya in three weeks. Please don't forget to review!