A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading. I hope you are intrigued. If you have any questions, please ask them and I will try to clarify. Also, feel free to review if you are so inclined. I would like to take this opportunity to thank my wonderful beta reader, Alexandra the Dreamer, who has been a great help. Enjoy!

The Shadow Of A Dream

SECTION ONE: REUNIONS OF THE DANGEROUS SORT

She exhaled slowly, evaluating her options as she warily eyed the loosely restrained door. The oversized blue creatures with inexplicable ice powers gathering outside of her temporary hideout were not about to just go away without a fight, and she didn't have the strength to hold them off without risking serious injury. If she ran away, as her occasional mentor and friend was one to suggest as a viable option when facing danger, she risked dragging innocent civilians from the nearby towns into a war they could not survive. She sighed and breathed deeply, trying to bring her rapid pulse down a little to a more manageable level. It was a struggle, the adrenaline only aggravating the problem brought on by having two hearts in her body.

At some point, Avalon Granger was going to get used to the premise that danger lurked around every potential corner and on every adventure she underwent. After all, she was half Time Lady; it practically came as a job description that safety was optional on the best days and completely forgotten on the worst ones.

The Doctor, her mentor who was a full Time Lord, had explained it to her as best as he could the first time she climbed aboard the TARDIS after a particularly dicey encounter with the Judoon. "Adventuring, time traveling, running away, whatever you want to call it...well it has ups and downs. Occasionally a lot of downs. You make friends and lose them forever, sometimes simultaneously. It can be a lonely life, a terrifying one. Every once in a while, you're all alone in the universe, and the safety of the galaxy rests in your skinny hands." He looked down, pensive. "But that's the gift and the curse of your heritage, love." He looked straight at her, his eyes piercing daggers into her hearts. "If nothing else, the greatest thing you can do to respect the sacrifices of those who came before you is live. Live for all of us Time Lords, for those who are dead and those who are lost, those who will never see friendship and those who must sever the friendships they make. Live and love and treat all the species you meet with a common respect, and then you'll be able to find the light of excitement in the darkest of places. Trust me; it's good for your sanity. When you live longer than most men can comprehend, the little things make all the difference."

The TARDIS had lurched suddenly then, and they'd gone flying into another dimension, the Doc laughing all the while. But Avalon had never forgotten that advice of looking for the good in the bad circumstances. Right now, however, she was struggling to find a positive in this dark circumstance. For a second, she honestly wished for the TARDIS to come crashing through right now. She could really use some advice about avoiding monsters that appeared to hold a serious grudge against her...although for what she wasn't entirely sure (perhaps it lay in her future timeline, a prospect she really was not looking forward to. Although, knowing her, odds were high she had started the conflict. The things her snarky mouth got her into...)

As the thought crossed her mind, there was a sudden whoosh of displaced air behind her. Avalon didn't breathe, afraid of misinterpreting things around her out of a psychological need to be saved. But when she felt a pair of eyes on her, a smile subconsciously crossed her face. He really did have the best timing. "You finally reworked the landing, mate?" she asked, turning around to face what she assumed to be the Doctor. It was not.

Her well-traveled mentor prided himself on his ability to belong, to fit in until his inquisitive mind got the better of him. So unless he had decided at some point in the past few years that Viking armor was 'cool' or that oversized horned helmets were the new fez...some other individual had inexplicably come to her aid.

"Sorry to be unappreciative, but who the hell are you?" Avalon demanded of the mysterious stranger, feeling the air thrum with a new and foreign energy. He looked her over, clearly struggling to find the words to explain himself. His short black hair was slicked back, and he seemed extremely pale. For a moment, Avalon considered the possibility he was a vampire. It wouldn't be the first time that she had attracted strange people.

She looked into his deep green eyes, searching for answers. They were vivid and bursting with life, and something about them just seemed so familiar. It hovered in the air between them, on the edge of Avalon's memory. She couldn't place it, but she was almost certain that she had met this strange man before.

Before she could ask any more questions, the door shattered. A blue creature (Frost Giant, a gentle voice echoed in her head. She ignored it) thrust his way through, icicles dangling from his massive hands. Avalon quietly swore in Gallifreyan, grabbing for her sword. Before she could draw, the...Frost Giant threw his icicle beam at her with laser-like accuracy.

Expecting to get hit, Avalon was stunned to be thrown to the ground. An unfamiliar weight covered her, protecting her from the blast. She quickly realized that the stranger had thrown her out of harm's way, determined to keep her alive. Now, he was staring down the Frost Giant, who seemed almost thrilled at the face-off. They paced in a circle, each eyeing for potential weaknesses of the other. The man's hands were glowing bright green, and sparks of energy seemed to fly off of them. Avalon realized that he must have some sort of magical training. Clearly, he needed it; he was rather lithely built with some muscle but not an extraordinary amount.

As the man placed his back to the opening where the door had been, another Frost Giant poked its head through. Avalon saw the danger, and rapidly evaluated the situation. There was no time for a warning; he was directly in the line of fire. Without considering anything, Avalon threw herself at the mysterious man, knocking him out of harm's way. The Frost Giant's aim wavered at the motion in front of his target, and the ice dagger splintered into multiple pieces. One of the pieces pierced Avalon's abdomen.

Blood began oozing out of the wound. Avalon looked down, fighting the urge to panic. It really wasn't that bad of an injury, she told herself, even as her best attempts to staunch the bleeding failed. Exhaustion, brought on by the cold as much as the injury, kicked in. Avalon hit the ground, feeling her body grow very heavy. It was a foreign sensation, one she couldn't cope with. The thought crossed her mind that she was losing a lot of blood (She was hardly afraid of death at this point. Worried about re-generating and waking up in a different body that she would have to learn all over again, yes, but not dying...)

A second set of hands covered her own, the pressure drawing Avalon back to the present. Instinctively, she looked up into the striking green eyes of the stranger, who had apparently sent the Frost Giants packing. Something in his face displayed naked fear and terror. Suddenly, Avalon was able to place the face. It had been a long time for her; at least 15 years from her end, which was extensive with all the other adventures she'd taken in between. She remembered those green eyes that had belonged to a young boy who had been lost on the tundra of Vinland, screaming for his father and the Bifrost. As the blackness washed over her, pulling her deeper into its depths, she whispered the name, the name that was suddenly in the front of her mind as though it had been yesterday.

"Loki..."

#####

He remembers the fear. Granted, he had been 10 at the time; many things had scared him to some extent, some more irrational than others (Thor swears that he used to have nightmares of snakes growing up, which he doubts were as extensive as his brother insists. Perhaps that's why he is so eager to show off by creating them out of thin air, so willing to laugh at the men who shy away from them out of surprise and sudden panic. He always had a complex relationship with his childhood fears).

But being alone, without his family or anything familiar, lost in a realm he knew nothing about...that sudden panic had overpowered his senses, leaving him unable to think straight through the sheer weight of it. It scared him. (Had he fully understood the implications of being alone, or known that when he grew up he would seek out loneliness and choose to separate himself from his brother and his parents, perhaps the terror would have lessened. He cannot say for sure whether this would be true). The scariest part had been the lack of explanation. He'd just hit the ground, fallen through a crack of some sort between the worlds in the middle of finding the perfect hiding place during Hide and Seek because he was going to beat his brother at something.

The only other clear vision he has of that time is of her. She had arrived, rising from the cold fog when he was screaming for his father and terrified. She had shared her makeshift fire, hugged him and let him cry when he'd been too scared to think. She had made him laugh with her stories and distracted him with an explanation of how she was different from humans (to this day the double heartbeat he had felt with a hesitant finger is one of the more mysterious things he has discovered. It's never been duplicated in all of his adventures across the Nine Realms). The human mortals, clearly intimidated by his inexplicable arrival, had attempted to hurt him, and she had protected him. He owed her his life (perhaps that was an exaggeration...or perhaps not. Such debts were often thrown about by warriors in the heat of battle, and he sometimes scoffed at them, but in this case, he was not so willing to laugh off such a claim).

When his father had finally arrived, he'd willingly returned to the palace and the world he knew far away, but not before saying goodbye. She had promised him that they would meet again someday, and he had expected it to happen eventually. When he had found her on Midgard, he couldn't contain his excitement and trepidation. But when he'd realized that the Frost Giants were chasing her...

She couldn't die today. That was his oath, his promise to himself. He was going to fight tooth and nail to save her life. After all, that was the least he owed her. He was Loki the Asgardian, Odin's youngest adopted son. And he was going to pay back the debt he owed, by saving her life...

####

Heimdall the Gate Keeper hesitated, not sure how to react to the question addressed to him. Finally, he decided complete honesty was the best policy, especially when dealing with the future king of Asgard. "He went down to Midgard," he said quietly. "I'm not sure where exactly, but he seemed excited about something. Almost electric."

Thor sighed, confused by his brother's behavior. "Loki has never had a taste for the mundane lives of the mortals below," he said. "I hope he's not trying to rule them again; Father would be most displeased. He seemed to be getting back to normal...well, as normal as Loki can be, anyways. Something must have set him off."

Heimdall turned his eye to Midgard, and froze momentarily, focused on the mortal world. Thor saw his expression and fought the urge to panic. Very little unnerved Heimdall. Whatever he was seeing when he looked for Loki amongst the mortals, it could not be good.

"How far are your warrior friends?" Heimdall asked.

Thor considered. "Too far for immediate help. How bad is it?"

"In this instant, it's not something Loki can't handle. But...there are problems. Things that might be an issue later down the line."

Thor frowned. "What exactly are you talking about, fair Heimdall?"

"The Frost Giants have found a way to Midgard," was the explanation. "Based on his actions, Loki had nothing to do with it. I suppose you can ask him yourself..." He paused again, then turned slightly pale, which did nothing to lessen Thor's inner panic. "Thor, you may have to walk back. Your horse will be needed."

The familiar whoosh of the Bifrost distracted Thor from his mild annoyance. There, in the middle of the platform stood his brother, hunched over with the weight of another body. Several questions erupted in Thor's mind, but the look in his brother's eyes stopped them instantly.

Silently, Loki rushed out of the portal, carefully holding a woman who was a stranger close to his chest. Blood was freely flowing out of her abdomen; Thor was no doctor, but he could tell that the wound was not clotting properly. She groaned, clearly in pain, and Thor stepped forward to help his brother lift her onto the horse. Loki shot him a look of gratitude, and slid into the saddle. He looked back, suddenly considering something.

Heimdall strode forward with purpose. "The healers have been informed, Loki. They are expecting you. Ride fast; the more time they have..."

"Thank you," Loki breathed, his jaw setting in a firm expression of determination. "I will do what I can." He kicked the horse, and tore off at a gallop.

Thor and Heimdall stood together, watching Loki's sprint towards the palace. Finally, Thor could not contain his confusion, and he turned towards the Gate Keeper. "I've never seen him so worked up about almost anything. Who is she?"

Heimdall sighed. "The story is not mine to tell, Thor. Perhaps your brother will explain. Right now, he needs your support more than ever. Go to him."

Thor nodded. "I will. Thank you for all of your help." Wordlessly, he took off running towards the palace. No matter what the circumstances were, he would support his brother.

#####

When he rushes her out of Midgard, sprinting off the Bifrost as a man on a mission, he doesn't consider how wrong his actions would appear. His only focus is on her, the woman he lost a long time ago but found again after years of searching. Nothing else registers. By sheer luck, Heimdall is there waiting, preventing Thor from asking too many questions that he doesn't have the answer to. He exchanges basic pleasantries with the Gate Keeper and his brother as he pulls his visitor onto a horse and spurs it rapidly into a gallop towards the healers (he's doing what he can to stop the bleeding, fighting the bile rapidly rising in his throat as the blood continues to slip through his red-stained fingers and her powerful, unique double heartbeat slows down. He feels powerless for the first time in many years, and it kills him a little on the inside that this puzzle is beyond his skill).

He cannot lose her; not so soon after finding her again. Maybe it's a reckless statement, the last remnants of a ten year old who grew up far too fast for his own mental health, but the thought drives him crazy. Some part of him wants to return to the boy she rescued, to the innocent child who never dreamed of taking over Midgard but only wanted to be an equal to his perfect older brother in the eyes of his father. He cannot rationalize his response, his unhealthy need to keep her alive, and that unnerves him. But he's beyond caring.

The doors to the healers are thrown open with a little impulsive magic, but they show no surprise at his sudden entrance. They take Avalon from his sore bloodied hands and snap into sudden action, and Loki feels himself deflate like a balloon suddenly released with no warning. He falls to his knees, the adrenaline that has been driving his every action suddenly flushed out of his system with no explanation. He feels so tired, so exhausted from the consideration that she might not make it out alive, and so alone.

His brother slides next to him; Loki senses him before he does so and says nothing. The hug is not unexpected; in fact, for once it's almost welcoming, although he tenses from the contact as his custom reaction (he's never been much for physical contact, regardless of Thor's customary response). Suddenly he feels the last of his strength evaporate as he leans into his brother's welcoming embrace. He whispers her name impulsively, and Thor tightens his grip, not asking but just supporting. The brothers sit there, letting time pass them by as the healers run around them tending to the stranger with two hearts...