Author's note: Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the support and kind words! It really means a lot that people are reading this story and ( from all the favs ) liking it! I would also like to thank all my reviewers-you all make my life, really!

Sorry this next chapter took so long...Organic Chemistry struck again. Hopefully the next chapter will be quicker!

Odin looked at the relic in front of him, and gave a frustrated sigh. It was a curious object, one that he had acquired so long ago he remembered not how it was acquired. In his youth, he could vaguely remember collecting the various gems that adorned the golden gauntlet, but never in his time had he dared attempt to use all of their powers at once. He had been warned, time and time again, by being much wiser than him that doing so would put all of Asgard in jeopardy.

"So this is it?"

Odin turned around to come face to face with one of his wife's handmaidens. He watched as she walked closer to him, her dark eyes fixated curiously on the strange relic in front of her. Pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes, she gave Odin a small smile before focusing once again on the golden object.

"Thank you for coming, Vor." Odin remarked, watching her eyes travel around the treasure room few ever saw, "Your wisdom is much appreciated in this matter. I know not a wiser soul to consult."

Vor gave her king a flattered smile before looking around again. She was a goddess in her own right, one of wisdom and inquiry, so she was not surprised that Odin had called for her in this most pressing of matters. Still, what was around her was fascinating; few souls had been allowed in Odin's treasure vault—aside from the royal family—so everything she saw caused her curiosity to burn.

"There is, obviously, much that would be coveted my Lord." She admitted, eyes traveling back to he golden gauntlet in front of her, "So if I may inquire, what makes this the most desired of your treasures?"

Odin looked at the relic again. A fear resonated through him, almost as if saying its abilities would make the danger all the more real. Though powerful, he now wanted nothing to do with the cursed object. In his heart, however, he knew that if he was not truthful with Vor, he could never get the answers he was seeking.

"This was given to me by my father, long before I knew its true power." Odin admitted, "When he gave it to me, it had but one gem—and it was my curiosity and lust for adventure that led me to find the others. In all my journeys, I have found all but one…a stubborn gem indeed."

Vor looked down at the metal glove that was adorn with beautifully colored stones. Below the pointer finger, however, there was an ugly void—would be home of the gem that had alluded Odin. Vor looked at Odin again questioningly, still unsure of why an—albeit glorious—relic was so coveted.

"The stones place unto the user powers unthinkable." Odin explained, "Oft I had tried to control them separately, but the power was frightening. The Norns warned me, long ago, to give up my dreams to own them all—for to harness them in their entirety, bestows a dangerous power upon their wielder."

Vor looked down at the gauntlet again, intrigued by its dangerous nature.

"What kind of power, my Lord?"

Vor notice that Odin suddenly looked ashamed that he had allowed such a relic to exist on Asgard.

"Omnipotence."

Vor could feel her breath catch in her chest. Suddenly, everything started to make sense and the realizations of what was about to happen terrified her. She could tell that Asgard would be swept into war over this small object, and the loss she knew Asgard would take unsettled her. Taking a deep breath, she finally voiced her suspicions.

"I suspect someone wants it." she admitted, "And you want to know how to spare Asgard the horrors this someone will bring?"

Vor noticed that Odin looked ashamed once again.

"Heimdall can tell that they will strike soon." Odin admitted, "I know not what these beings will do, but Loki fears them."

Odin watched as Vor's dark eyes seemed lost in thought. He could see an unspoken fear in her eyes as she looked at the gems, biting her bottom lip in thought. Truthfully, he felt bad—putting this much weight on her shoulders—but she was Asgard's best hope. If the gauntlet really was capable of what the Norns claimed it was, she was perhaps the best hope for the rest of the realms as well.

"The thirst for power has led men to do atrocious things." Vor explained, "Your son has proven that truth in the most painful of ways. I fear that, even if the gauntlet is destroyed, death will still befall Asgard—war is inevitable."

Odin looked at Vor sadly as she spoke again.

"If the stones exist on Asgard, they will be used to destroy us." She admitted regrettably, "Asgard's best defense is to separate the stones. Give them to Asgard's most trusted. Send them across the realms. Even if Asgard falls, the power will stay out of one being's hands."

Giving a nod to Vor, Odin dismissed her. He focused his thoughts on the gauntlet as he listened to her footsteps growing farther away, finally leaving him to his options. Without the Bifrost, Asgard was a cornered animal—an easy target for enemies. He wondered how he would break the news to his kingdom? How would he tell the Asgardians of their inevitable war, of their inevitable mortality? What pain would he feel when Asgard learns this was Loki's doing-

that the fall of Asgard was brought upon them by his own house?

He never before felt so small.

Eir walked down the halls of the palace once again, having been relieved of her duties to Frigga. To her side, walked Sjofn—another one of the Queen's handmaidens—a goddess who was so enthralled by notions of true love that is defined her. Eir had to admit, though Sjofn was an insufferable gossip, her abilities to match-make Asgardians was unmatched. On more than one occasion, the other high goddesses sought her powers to find suitors. Sjofn was usually successful, and her ease in finding love was envied by many.

For the past while, however, Eir had tried to ignore the woman's unstoppable chatter. Every now and then, her golden eyes would pass over the woman with curly blonde hair and hazel eyes—trying with utmost effort to feign interest. To her regret, however, Sjofn had decided to continue the conversation.

"Don't you agree, Eir?" she asked, noticing her colleague's aloof nature, "Lady Sif and Prince Thor would be a perfect match."

Eir thought about this with a smile; anyone close to Sif knew that the warrior had loved Thor for centuries. Now that Thor had set his sights on a mortal, it was not hard to see the distant and pained look in Sif's eyes. She was actually surprised it took Sjofn so long to see that which was so obvious.

"I agree, Sjofn." Eir admitted, "From what I have heard of the mortal, she seems an ill fit."

"I am glad I am not the only one to see that." Sjofn smiled, "Word has it that he plans to bring the mortal here, during a grand feast, to present her to his parents. Could you imagine, Eir? A mortal on the throne of Asgard?"

Eir let out a small laugh.

"Better than Sigyn, I would suspect." Sjofn admitted thoughtfully, "Though I think not we need to worry about that. Loki has no chance at the throne now."

Sjofn watched as Eir gave a nod in agreement before looking ahead in thought again. She had to admit, Eir had seemed more distant as of late. Since caring for the estranged prince. Perhaps Loki's condition was too much for even Asgard's best doctor to handle? Stress was written all too clearly on the woman's face.

Before she could comment, Eir gave her a small goodbye and started walking down into the deeper parts of the palace—far beyond the handmaiden's chambers. Sjofn knew she was going to tend to Loki, and she shivered as she thought of the crazed prince. Stories had spread quickly of his condition, and none were pleasing. Most of Asgard thought him a delusional monster, and she had to give Eir credit for caring for such a beast.

For she surely wouldn't.

Eir let her eyes adjust to the darkness of Loki's detainment room. Again, it was unusually quiet—the only sounds coming from the dripping water from the outside world. Rubbing her arms at the cold, she walked closer to the cell—expecting to see a writing figure. To her surprise, however, she was not met with the usual horrors. This time, she was not met with a bloodied and sewn prince, begging for death. This time, she was met with a much more surprising scene:

He was asleep.

Next to him, she could see her empty mortar—the anesthetic contents completely consumed. A small smile found its way to her face as she placed her hand on his forehead, noting that the fever that had revenged him only a day before had disappeared. Her golden eyes looked down at him, studying how curious he now looked. Before her was not the monster she had seen earlier in the week, but the peaceful prince she once knew. As she watched his chest rise and fall blissfully, she wondered what had turned him into the murderer all of Asgard now saw?

Sitting down quietly, she took a minute to appreciate that which she had not seen in so long. A small smile adorned the corner of his pale face, lost in a dream perhaps, and his eyes fluttered rapidly below his tired eyelids. For someone who had not slept in so long, the gift of slumber was a feeling most pleasant. Once satiated with sleep, she was hopeful that Loki would emerge a more cooperative specimen.

Looking away from the peaceful scene for a moment, her attention was focused once more on her empty mortar. Having taken that much of her medicine, Loki would be asleep for quite some time—and while he certainly needed it, it gave Eir the chance she finally needed to begin the tedious healing process. With Loki's incessant refusal temporarily silenced, she would be able to delve into his mind and finally keep her promise to Thor.

Moving closer to the cell, she put her arms through the bars and pushed some of Loki's dark hair away from his face. She watched cautiously as he gave a small twitch before drifting back. Placing her small hands on his temples, she closed her eyes and focused her magic on the complex maze which was his mind.

She could feel her magic winding itself within the many complexities of the brain. It was such a fragile and variable organ that it made treating diseases of the mind a difficult task. But as she felt her magic twist and turn its way through the complexes, she was finding nothing. Nothing was unusual about the mind of this killer than any other, and it started to unsettle her greatly.

Focusing harder, she finally managed to move herself into his deep conscious, where the worst of pathologies were known to linger. Her whole world felt heavy as her powers penetrated deeper, dragging themselves along the sickening muck which was Loki's mind. His deep conscious, what made him who he was, was a painful place to be in…but that, too, was void of any curious malady.

No—what she saw was not a sickness. There was nothing fundamentally broken in the prince that lay before her. What she felt, what she could see in his mind was something far worse. As she dove deeper, she could feel her eyes well up and her chest tighten as she felt an unbearable heartbreak. What had been done to Loki, by the hands of his own family, had been what had truly broken him—not some pathology. What had turned Loki into the seemingly irredeemable God of Lies was deception itself—at the hands of those he loved the most.

And that was something not even she could fix.

Thank you so much for reading! Please review!

Next chapter: Odin decides to hold a feast for Jane's arrival, and Loki gets a unpleasant visitor.