"The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn."

–David Russell

Freyja leaned against the wall while Thor spoke with Director Fury about getting an apartment of her own or, at the very least, a S.H.I.E.L.D.-owned safe house for her to stay in. She knew she should have said something to them about leaving and stop their pointless conversation, but she didn't know how to start.

Despite the fact that her people were notoriously good with words, she was not a particularly charismatic person. Loki had always been the one who could talk his way into or out of every, and any, situation. He was known as the God of Lies, even though it was persuasion that he preferred to use. She was the quiet one who pulled strings from behind the curtains and her friends were the main attractions.

She supposed her decision to remain out of the spotlight was due to constantly being thrust into it. Being the Princess of Vanaheim and ambassador to Asgard had quite a few disadvantages, many of which stemming from the unwanted attention, as well as being the guard of all the secrets in the Nine Realms. Although her brief stays on Midgard allowed her some quiet, they never could last. She couldn't afford to stay without bringing something terrible down onto the innocent people of this Realm.

But how could she say this without giving away every secret she had sworn to protect? He did not know the whole truth of why she was running and, even if she could find a way to tell him at that moment without breaking her vows, he would not take the news well. He would try to stop her, try to persuade her that he and the forces of Asgard would be able to help protect her. It was an impossible promise but he would make it regardless. With all of the lives lost because of her weighing heavily in her mind, she knew she could never live with herself if her friends in Asgard died at the hands of Thanos.

"I don't have empty houses at my disposal at this time," Fury pointed out. "Besides that, you said she told you that she was only staying until she returns to Asgard, making a safe house unnecessary."

"I beg your pardon?" she exclaimed, turning to Thor as Fury's words shattered her idle thoughts. "I have never once said those words. When did you plan to tell me that you had planned out my future in my place?"

Thor grimaced, "I planned to inform you when it was relevant."

"Relevant? When would it have been relevant, Thor? While you personally dragged me back?" she said. "I have already said I cannot return to Asgard."

"You must!"

"I can't!"

"Am I missing something here?" Fury asked.

"Nothing which concerns you in any sense," she snapped at the Director. "It is a little too late to catch up, and you are hardly entitled to know every detail of our lives, so I would very much appreciate it if you would give Thor and I a moment alone."

"And I would appreciate it if aliens would stop using Earth for a pit stop," Fury replied. "But that, apparently, ain't happening. As it is, there are too many blanks at the moment, and you seem to have all the answers."

"The answers you seek are the ones I cannot give you," she sighed in irritation, becoming increasingly tired with the repeating conversation.

"It's not as if the information you give will be shared with anyone. Most of it will require Level Nine clearance."

"Just tell him," Thor implored her.

She looked at him incredulously, "Whose side are you on?"

"We are all on the same side, Freyja."

"Evidently not, especially when you ask me to betray the memory of my people."

"Just tell me what the Tesseract is and I won't bother you any further," Fury offered. "It's not much to ask."

"You want to know what the Tesseract is?" she said, her patience wearing thin. "It is one of the most powerful forces in the entirety of the universe. The full explanation is difficult enough for my kind to have trouble comprehending it, so what makes you believe that such a primitive race as yours can do better?"

"Freyja!" Thor exclaimed.

Freyja turned her attention onto the blonde prince, "Oh, do not act as though my words offend you when even you have complained at how Stark believes you incompetent with the technology your grandfathers used. Besides, if anyone is to blame for the Tesseract, it is you Æsir."

"Why is it we take the blame for everything done recently?" he demanded.

"It was your people who demanded we give you a home, your people who grew greedy when we did, your people who demanded we share our knowledge, your people who sought after the Tesseract in order to strong-arm us into giving you what you wanted. Had your people not sought what you could not have, we wouldn't have had to take the Tesseract from you in the first place!"

"So it is the fault of the Asgardians when the Vanir failed at keeping it hidden?"

"It wouldn't have needed me to keep it hidden had your kind not been so damnably arrogant!"

"You speak as if your people were not arrogant!"

"And you as if you were not the same," she retorted. "You may not like it, but it is the condescension of your people that leads to every war which erupts within the Nine Realms!"

"So that's it, is it? You are blaming me for what happened to Loki!"

"Loki-?" Fury started, but was cut off as Freyja shouted back at him.

"Why must everything revolve around your brother? This has nothing to do with Loki!"

"Yes it does, I can see it in your eyes. You believe it is my fault that Loki found out who he is and, yes, it stemmed from my arrogance – but also from his tricks. You believe it is my fault that I was not there for him when he needed me. But, if anyone is to blame, it is you! None of us have ever been able to change Loki's mind but you. And yet when he needed you most, you were off roaming the Nine Realms, pretending to be dead!"

She clenched her jaw, biting her tongue. If she opened her mouth now, after Thor had all but slapped her in the face, it would not be English she would speak. She would likely incite a curse upon him. She clenched her fists, wondering if it would relieve any stress if she struck him. Maybe it would knock some sense into him. Did he truly think she was unaware of how much it was her fault?

But then, her eyes softened as she thought of what he had said. She was sort of blaming him. Both of them knew it, and even knew that the blame laid with no one person, but she didn't want to face her own troubles in the matter. She didn't want to think about whether or not she had made the right choices, if she was still making the right choices, so she was pinning the blame on the closest person.

"If your little spat is over," Fury said sternly. "I still need to know who's going where and what's going to be done with the Tesseract."

"We will return to Asgard within the week," Thor answered.

"Thor will return to Asgard within the week, I will leave within the next two days for the farthest realm I can find," she corrected. "And you will know no more of the Tesseract than when I first came."

"I can't let you leave without getting some information," Fury spoke up. "It's the least you could do after all we've down for you."

The glance she shot him was sharp and cold, warning him silently as she spoke, "If you do not allow me to leave, you will seal the fate of your people. You do not know what enemy craves the power you seek answers of. He will rip through your world as a child does paper. Thanos destroyed my world in a matter of hours, and my people were gifted with magic, so do not doubt me when I say he will stop at nothing until he has the Tesseract."

"Thanos?" Thor asked. "The Mad Titan? The warlord?"

"Not just any warlord," she laughed humorlessly. "The warlord who has studied the workings of the Tesseract for so long, he can wield a fraction of them on his own. The same warlord who exposed Loki to its corruptive powers and supplied him with the Chitauri army. The same warlord who employed Merek and held me captive so many eons ago."

Thor paled at the memory of Freyja's kidnapping, remembering how pale and weak she had looked when she had returned to Asgard. She had been so close to death, her very body beginning to wither away, and silent as to what had happened to her. He had spent decades wondering what could do that to a Vanir. Now he had his answer, on top of now knowing that it was the same creature who had bent Loki's mind to its will, and he was no longer sure he was ready for such knowledge.

"If we're supposed to be worried about this warlord, how come we've never heard of him before now?" Fury asked.

"He was the greatest mistake of the Realms and you think that we'd tell your kind?" she countered. "Particularly when, at the time, your people still believed disease was divine wrath and that flies spontaneously came into being. You were no more ready for such knowledge than you are now."

"You can't intimidate me into letting you leave," Fury said sternly.

"I am not attempting to intimidate you!" she exclaimed helplessly. "I am trying to warn you, but it seems you are more thick-headed than the Jötunns and Asgardians combined!"

"Look, the World Security Council has been on my ass for answers and you're the only one who has them," he remarked. "Given that I haven't said a word regarding your stay here, on Thor's request, I might add, I don't think answers are too much to ask for."

"Fine, you want answers Yes. No," she started answering sarcastically. "It's possible, though not particularly probable. There's a seventy-eight percent chance of you finding solid proof of string theory. 1.77245-"

"I don't need the square root of pi," he said irritably. "I need to know what is in the Tesseract."

"No, you want to know what is in the Tesseract, what you need is to let it go."

"Look-"

"You look. You have two choices, which is the same as saying you have none: you can try to hold me here, in which you will fail spectacularly, or you can let me leave and I will forget you ever thought about such a ridiculous notion. The choice is yours."

She turned around and strode out the door, too irritated to bother waiting for his reply. Her frustration wasn't concentrated as it stemmed towards and from several sources. She was angry at Thor for even thinking of lying to her, annoyed at Fury for thinking he could keep her there, furious at Loki for creating the mess he had, and even more irate with herself for coming in the first place and getting herself into the mess that was now her life.

It occurred to her, as more of an errant thought amongst the madness, that she had not meditated that morning as she had left with Thor immediately after waking. She was in serious need of it now, if it would even work at this point in her life. Humans, with their ever-changing atmosphere, seemed to reduce the results of meditation. She did, however, know of one solution that could calm her down and help her out at the same time: Loki.

She walked briskly through the halls, gaining strange looks from the agents, as she searched for an empty room. It took quite a bit of wandering to find a relatively deserted area of the Triskelion and when she finally found a room, she leaned against the wall and slid wearily to the floor. Her most recent headache made it all the more difficult to project herself across the Yggdrasil but she managed it eventually.

Loki was lying on his silver cot, staring at the ceiling once more. It seemed to be something he did a lot these days. Something about his expression upset her, as she knew immediately that he was dwelling on something unpleasant, and she hoped he would not be too distracted. She could see it in the way his mouth was set and the way his fingertips absentmindedly traced strange shapes into the metal surface. He looked over at her when he realized she was there, the lethargy fading away from his face.

"Hello, love."

She couldn't help but smile at his nickname for her. Neither of them could remember when she had stopped being 'Freyja, princess of Vanaheim' in his eyes, simply becoming his 'love', as though the familiarity had stripped away the last of their formality. One day she had simply become 'love', and now she couldn't imagine ever going back.

"Does it trouble you that you call me by an endearment and yet I still call you by your name?" she asked, genuinely curious.

He chuckled lightly, "Of course not. It's not by what name you call me…" – he stood up and walked around to her back, leaning in to whisper in her ear – "…but how you say it."

She smiled sadly as she remembered how he used to whisper to her after she had told him that she enjoyed it, and how he had teased her relentlessly for it. Her explanation as to why had been incomplete, almost incapable of being verbally described, but he had never complained about it. She sensed he remembered it, too. But his playful smile faded when he looked in her eyes.

"Something is wrong," he guessed. "This is not simply a pleasure visit, is it?"

"I came to ask for advice," she sighed, sitting down on his cot.

He raised his eyebrows, sitting down next to her, "You've come to ask advice of me? Sorry to disappoint, but I do not think I can help you here. You and I both know you were the wiser of us."

"You are the only one I can think to ask," she answered. "You are the only one I trust to give me mostly unbiased answers."

"Ask away, but I cannot guarantee an answer that will help," he told her.

She leaned her back against the wall, her shoulder brushing his as she did, "I am at a crossroads. Three main paths extend before me, but I find myself hesitating for all three are paved in blood. Two in the blood of others, of my friends, and one in my own. I do not consider walking the roads where others shall die for the sake of my own personal wishes, but I will slowly kill myself on the third and it will not be long after that the rest follow me.

"There is no way to go back and I know I must choose the third path, but I do not believe I have the strength to do so forever. I suppose my question is what you believe I should do?"

He was silent, thinking carefully about what she had said. She turned her head to watch him. She knew he was reflecting on his own memories as well as trying to think of an answer. She wondered how he saw himself, how he saw what he did, or if he hid from it the way she did her own mistakes. She wouldn't read his mind, out of courtesy. She knew he would tell her anyway. They had made an agreement long ago: she would not manipulate his mind in any way and he would never lie to her, half-truth or otherwise.

"I cannot say what you should do, for I have no answer for you," he said at last. "I suppose the only thing you can do is walk the third path as best you can. After all, if there is anyone strong enough to do so, it is you."

She looked down at her hands, somehow knowing this would be his answer. Beside her, Loki was thinking again about something troubling. She could feel it, practically hear his mind working away at his interest, and could no longer remain silent. Gently skimming the edges of his mind, she let him know that she wondered what he was thinking.

"Does it ever trouble you?" he said suddenly.

"What?"

He looked at her, his green eyes somber, "Does it trouble you that your father knew this might happen to you, but made you carry the burden regardless?"

She gave a sigh, wishing that he had been thinking of anything except her father, "The problem with my father is that he never cared. He fell in love once, it ruined his life, and he never wanted to feel such pain again. To prevent any similar disaster, he refused to create any sort of connection between himself and anyone. But you are not truly asking about my father, are you?"

He went silent, answering her with his emotions rather than his words.

"Pitiful excuses for fathers, unlawful children and broken families," she whispered. "Seems to be the norm for royalty…Or, at least, for us."

"It would seem so."

"You were right, you know."

"About what?"

"I should have run away with you when you offered. I should have left it all behind. Neither Vanaheim nor Asgard was in need of you or I. Thanos would have never found me the first time, there would no danger threatening you or Asgard or anyone I come in contact with, and things would have been different. I was a fool to say no, especially when we could have been happy."

"No, you were not. It was selfish of me to ask you to leave everything simply to be with you."

"What would you do, if you were in my position?"

"I do not do well when given certain roads," he pointed out. "I tend to make my own."

"Make my own path…"

"It's often simpler to make my own path rather than conform to the one set down by others."

"I cannot simply take the easy road."

"I never said it was an easy choice, I simply said it is often more so than what is offered."

She fiddled with her –his, in reality – emerald ring, thinking about the idea. He glanced down at her hand, his eyes softening as he spotted it.

"Why did you keep my ring?"

"I have told you why."

"You told me you could not part with it. That is hardly a reason."

"It reminded me of you," she conceded. "Spurred me on when I felt as if I should give in to Thanos. When I would feel my strength waning, I would look at it and I could imagine you telling me to continue, to not give up."

"Was it in the nagging way you encouraged me when I could not perform an incantation correctly?"

"I did not nag you!" she laughed. "I simply tried to heighten your morale."

"And you did a marvelous job," he said sarcastically.

"Did you not attempt once more afterwards?"

"Yes," he admitted. "You can be very persuasive."

"Only in your eyes."

"You say many things about yourself can only be seen through my eyes."

"I could say the same of you."

"Are you so blind? So completely unaware of yourself?"

"I have been blind for a long time, Loki. Many of us are."

He thought about that, a perplexed expression crossing his face that made her laugh. He was utterly lost, having no clue what she was speaking of, and yet was trying to see what she meant and how it applied to him. She honestly thought he should riddle it out by himself. His puzzlement was amusing, and she loved when she genuinely had him grasping for the answer. It was, after all, a phenomenon that did not occur often.

She suddenly sobered, thinking about earlier that morning. When she had said he was the only one she trusted to be unbiased, it was true. So many people in her life had ulterior motives and, among the few that she truly had left, she couldn't even trust herself to be completely altruistic. But Loki had always been able to soothe her anxieties and provide her with a fresh perspective – a different angle.

However, since his time under the control of the Mind Stone, he had become a slightly different person. Of course, she knew no one could experience what he had and return mentally unscathed. A complete mental upheaval was a difficult thing to go through. Not to mention that it had brought him into the attention of Thanos, a thought which caused Freyja much grief. She feared that the Titan would come back for him in order to hurt her. What would she do if he decided to kill Loki this time?

"I need you to promise me something," she said softly.

"Anything," he replied easily.

"I need you to promise me that you will never deliberately put yourself in danger. If danger finds you, do not fight foolishly. Do not play the heroic prince who fights until his death."

He turned to her in surprise, "You want me to run?"

"I want you to stay alive," she corrected.

"What has prompted such a request?"

"Thanos has warned me that his patience runs thin."

His green eyes widened, an alarmed edge carved into the lines between his brows, "Thanos has contacted you?"

"Indirectly," she informed him, placing her hand over his in the hopes of providing some small sense of comfort. "He has said that he will show me every definition of pain, but there is nothing more anyone can do to me. Except hurt the ones I love."

"You will not lose me, love."

She shook her head, "Please, Loki, just promise me this."

"You have my word." he agreed, giving her fingers a soft squeeze. "But allow me to request something of you, as well: whatever you choose to do, be sure it is the right choice. You do not want to make the same mistakes I have."

The smile she offered him was one of sadness, a bittersweet expression rather than a hopeful one, "I will do my best."

"You will do what you think is right. I know you will."

She shook her head, "I will do what I feel is right, not what I think. It is my curse, to be forever heart-bound, no matter the consequences."

"How is it a curse and not a blessing?"

"Look at my life, Loki. I felt that it was best to admit my love for you, so I shattered the remains of my family. I felt it was right to fight with my people against Thanos, and left you to think me dead as a result. I felt I should protect you and the whole of Asgard from death by endlessly running, but look what you have done in my absence. I have destroyed my own life because of my selfishness."

"You are not selfish-"

"If I were not, I would not torture you so. I know what you feel towards my actions, and you know what I feel towards yours. If I were a good friend, I would take away your memories of me and let you move on. Or I would return to help you find your way once more. Instead, I taunt you with the possibility of happiness. I drag you along to believe I could find happiness, that we could be anything more than we are, but I only hurt both you and myself. I am a selfish monster, but I cannot change."

"You are not the monster among us…"

She gave a sigh, "You imply that you are the monster, but you are not a terrible person. You have just made the wrong choices."

"I've condemned myself."

"I believe in second chances-"

"And what of thirds?" he asked bitterly.

"Redemption does not have a limit."

"But it does have a limited number of opportunities."

"I believe you've already countered that statement earlier," she pointed out. "Simply make a new opportunity."

He smiled, "And what will be your new opportunity? After all, you did come here to discuss your choices."

"I don't know."

"You will find an answer," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "I have complete faith in you."

She closed her eyes for a single instant, trying to trick her mind into imagining that no time had passed. With the outside world blocked out, and only the feel of Loki close to her, she could almost believe that nothing had gone wrong. But he could see such thoughts on the fringes of her mind. And she could, in return, feel how he ached for those days as much as she did. They could only pretend for so long.

"I love you," he said, the words more akin to a plea.

She turned to kiss him softly on the lips, "I love you, too."

When she broke the kiss, his green eyes were filled with guilt. Something was troubling him, something he refused to speak of, but she couldn't think of what exactly it might be. Regret echoed off of him like a voice in a cave. She knew he would tell her if she asked, but he would not want to, and she wouldn't press him for it. He would talk to her about it if he found the need.

"You should probably go," he said softly. "No doubt, someone has noticed your absence."

She sighed, "As you wish."

"May Sophossentia give you the strength you need," he said in her language, his accent almost perfect now.

Her head snapped up at the sentence, azure eyes filled with surprise. The blessing was common among Vanir, often said in times of emotional distress, but never so much as uttered among the other races. Words carried power in the language of her people and often coming true. Blessings and curses were not thrown about nonchalantly, like the fickle promise from a small child. It had been one of the first lessons she had taught him: words may be slung together in whatever form pleases the speaker, but vows must be hand-picked and analyzed critically.

"And may He offer you His guidance and protection," she replied in the same tongue.

"Goodbye, love," he whispered, his words falling on deaf ears as her projection faded from sight.

Freyja opened her eyes to find herself back in the empty room, as she had expected. What she hadn't expected was the door opening exactly as she stood up. The door slid open silently, which was rather surprising given that both the door and the wall were metal, to reveal none other than Natasha Romanoff. Her eyes narrowed as her face contorting into a mask of distrust when she saw the other red-head.

Not exactly who Freyja would have preferred to see, but definitely who she could ask what she needed to. Natasha just wasn't going to like what she wanted.