The nightmares had become unbearable.

Every night the galaxies were consumed in fire, and he watched frozen as countless worlds crumbled into the void. The flames stretched out to twine about his armor like searing serpents until the molten metal branded his skin in liquid silver. His voice could find no echo, though his throat bled raw with each silent scream that was ripped from him. Then the burning clouds would close in until the fumes strangled him, and for the fourth night in a row he awoke gasping for air in the dead of night.

How Sigyn must have burned. How she thirsted, and you let her burn.

The thought speared Loki and he collapsed forward with a moan, eyes squeezed shut against the tangle of sheets beneath him. The words ricocheted about his mind in a brazen cacophony until he clawed at his temples in an effort to silence it all. Sweat rolled hot across his skin and his breath came in short, ragged gulps as he fought to dispel the nightmare's rolling fog. But peace would not come, even as the room grew more familiar around him, and he stared forward with the eyes of a dead man, silent and sightless. He felt unhinged, unmade, and desperately far from a lucid shore. What knowledge was worth all this?

Anger suddenly roiled within him and Loki swore at her in his renewed grief, his voice finally returning as his tongue lashed out in hideous oaths that rang about the chamber. After all he had done, she had left him with this. His wandering grasp fell upon a nearby water carafe and he hurled it at the wall, the glass shattering and embedding fragments deep within the embroidered tapestry. When the last of the poisonous words had finally spilled from his mouth, he slid to the floor and leaned back against the bed, exhausted. Shaking fingers reached up to push away the hair plastered across his forehead as he threw a listless glance about the room that was still lit by two sputtering torches. How long he remained motionless, he did not know. He finally rose stiffly, half in a haze to stumble across to the golden water basin in the adjacent washroom. The cool splash of water steamed against his burning skin and he sighed as the heat evaporated along with the last remnants of the dream. Blinking, he felt reason return in slow waves until he could breathe easier as the madness retreated like the tide, though likewise, it was bound to return. Fear prickled at the back of his mind as it searched for any distraction to keep the darkness at bay, falling instantly upon his latest attempt at such a harmless diversion.

He immediately recoiled at the thought of Jane Foster. He had had no desire to see her again after their last meeting, for she vexed him, and was full of foolish hopes and graced with an impertinent manner that gnawed at his patience. His lips twitched in a rueful smile at the memory of the stinging slap she had once laid across his cheek. Had Thor not been present he would have answered her with much more than just the tilt of his head and a sly gibe. What Thor saw in her was a mystery to him, though Loki suspected it was the scientist's childish enthusiasm and occasional pluck that held his brother enthralled. These traits only served to mildly amuse Loki, for he found most Midgardians woefully dull and Jane not far above her kind's lot. Humans were fools in a universe too big for them, and they thought themselves able to conquer the stars through the sheer will of dreams without the raw possession of power. Oh, but how they loved to chatter endlessly about those hopes in every detail they could muster. Surely his nightmares could not return while she talked in that ceaseless, frenetic way of hers. He half-wondered at this weak reasoning, and with an effort fought down the sour disdain at the thought of her unwitting usefulness. Another glance about the oppressive room and he felt the madness lurk along the edges of his consciousness, waiting to corner him like a wolf before it consumed him alone. A mind could be a weapon unto itself as much as to others; the notion deeply unsettled him even as it settled the question.

With weary resolve, Loki cast the Allfather's visage about him once more but paused, surprised at how much effort the simple magic had taken. He had barely slept in days, and he began to wonder how long he could effectively hold the illusion without it revealing the true form underneath it. Shaking his head, he quickly dismissed the thought and continued to thread the image around him. Again, it chafed him—he was growing tired of traveling about as Odin for the simple, frustrating reason that he could not go as himself. Restlessness began to needle him and imagining how he might finally reveal himself to the dismayed Asgardians was the only thought that buoyed his patience with any measure of enthusiasm.

Jane would merely be a step in that direction, and nothing more.

Striding down the barren corridors, it occurred to him that she might have retired much earlier, and he found himself hoping that that burning curiosity of hers might have robbed her of rest. It did not take him long to find her chambers, as they were undoubtedly the same as Thor's. He chuckled despite himself. Thor must have truly thought his mission short for him to leave his lady in such an open hiding place. Perhaps he even underestimated his father's disapproval of her presence, and hoped Odin would forgive her second trespassing. Regardless, Loki was delighted to find her awake and bent over a book beside a collection of parchments that she had scattered pell-mell over a great oaken table. She did not hear his entrance, but continued her studies, occasionally scribbling down notes and drawing careful lines in a notebook to her right.

"Jane Foster," Loki began, Odin's voice rolling easily off his tongue in perfect mimicry. "I must offer a humble-"

She dropped the volume she had been holding and it crashed to the floor with a dull thud. Loki ambled forward and bent to retrieve it, pausing as his hand found where the pages had been held open the longest.

"The death of stars," he read thoughtfully, eyes flicking up to hers as he slowly placed the book back into her hands.

"Uh, yeah," she muttered as she began frantically straightening the papers before her.

"I'm afraid that I find the event too common to be of much interest."

She lit up at his remark, and Loki fought back a triumphant smile. How easily she could be goaded to conversation!

"No, this is an anomaly," Jane blurted, stabbing a finger at the map before her. "A thousand stars that die at once, each feeding off the other in this, this…endless chain of stellar collapse." She ran a hand through her tousled brown hair. "It's incredible."

The grin broke free upon Loki's lips. "Then may I welcome you to the larger side of the universe."

Jane searched his face, as if trying to detect his scorn from the last time he had mentioned her small world. Finding none, she risked a shy smile that grew as she glanced back over her notes. The warmth of his tone was apparently enough to melt away any further reservations she might have had, and she suddenly burst forth in a whirl of excitement.

"Allfather, did you see the red giants—" she stopped at his confused expression and recalibrated. "Oh, um, not real giants. Back on Earth, there's a phase of a dying star called a red giant which happens when it's used up its store of hydrogen which is a gas that fuels its core." Her words gained momentum as her confidence grew. "Then gravity begins to collapse it in upon itself and the star glows red as the hydrogen atoms undergo continuous fusion into…"

Loki sank slowly into an armed chair and listened as she rattled off a list of terms and scenarios that meant little to him, his attention held by her tireless vigor. To one as exhausted as he, she seemed a leaping spark in contrast to his black moods, and he watched carefully as she shuffled through the documents she had no doubt procured from the observatory. How she had done so, he did not bother to ask. Her tone entranced him, but not because he was charmed by it; rather, because her voice held an inexplicable quality that soothed his nerves as she prattled on about nothing and everything at once. Jane could hardly have found a more agreeable audience than the Asgardian before her, all too willing to listen to anything apart from his own dark thoughts.

"…and that's why when the sky was so red the other night—" Her words stopped on the tip of her tongue. "What's wrong?"

Loki had visibly stiffened. "I was not aware you took much notice of that."

Jane laughed. "Why wouldn't I? The light kept me up for hours!"

"Dying stars." Loki dropped his voice in a flat tone. "That's what you think that was?"

"What else could it be?" Jane flipped through the celestial maps and carefully flattened one out, leaning in to rest her chin on the back of her hands. Her brown eyes flitted over the ink-scrawled creases as she gingerly traced an index finger over the paths of galaxies and the realms that they claimed. "Where's Earth?"

Loki tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair. "Let me see."

Jane held up the thick sheaf and tilted it toward him. Loki leaned forward and merely glanced over it before falling back against the cushions. "Those are not Midgard maps."

"But shouldn't Midgard," she stumbled slightly over the strange word, then warmed to it, "Shouldn't Midgard be on all of these?"

Loki chuckled as he rose and walked toward the table. "Although your realm is at the center of the World Tree, it is by no means the only one."

"Thor told me about that!"

"About what?"

"The World Tree. He called it…" Jane trailed off for a moment, then shook her head sheepishly. "Well, I remembered it then."

"Yggdrasil."

"That was it."

Loki leaned two fists upon the table as he absently perused its contents. "And was that all he told you?"

She shrugged, suddenly fiddling with the worn pages of her open notebook. "Actually, I can't really remember. He started talking about the nine realms and where they came from, but I think I fell asleep."

Loki quirked a brow. "The subject bored you."

Jane's eyes widened as her face fell. "Oh, no, of course not! I mean, I was tired, that's all. Perhaps, you could tell me…again? You must have been to them all a million times."

A strange smile crossed Loki's face. "Yes, I have."

"Great. So…" Jane glanced back down at her charts, then fell into silence as they slowly claimed her attention once more. She seemed to forget him completely, but it was not long, however, before she frowned. "I still can't see this World Tree. I can't place anything, or get any directional bearing! Don't you have a map of everything?"

Loki stared at her, unease beginning to pool in his stomach as he was struck by a trace of familiarity. He began to back away, though he stopped short at her wounded expression.

"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right," Jane said apologetically. "I meant a map of the realms. I was wondering, if perhaps—"

"Yes, we have several." His mouth answered her question before his mind could even register the action.

"Are they in the observatory?" The hope in her voice was unmistakable.

Loki's surprise at his automatic response gave way to veiled annoyance. He had come only for the amusement of conversation, not to be the pageboy to the whims of a human. Still, the alternative to talkative company was far worse. He did not crave silence just yet.

He checked the strain in his voice. "Shall I show you?"

"You sure you wouldn't mind?"

The walk was a relatively short one. The residential halls were parallel to those of high academia, with the star chambers the chief fixture among them all. Loki had once wondered why Odin had built them when the Gatekeeper who watched from the edge of the Bifrost could describe every view of the universe. It was only later that he realized how the skies stirred great passions in some, infecting its students with a thirst for knowledge that could not be slaked by mere description. The skies demanded to be seen, and to be seen firsthand, and its limitless reaches provided enough questions for even the most ambitious Asgardians to pursue. And so for thousands of years the galaxies had been watched, studied, and recorded with the highest of detail until the shelves and vaults of the observatory became a vast library that held within its bosom the very history of the worlds.

Loki could not remember the last time he had been in this room, and found himself absorbing it all as if for the first time. The marble chamber was wide in berth, its ceiling rising high to a glassy dome that opened up to the bright night sky. The walls were flanked by great gilded shelves of thick tomes that stretched to the very ceiling as a massive desk cut the width of the room like a banquet table. Upon its surface were scattered volumes and diagrams from a previous study, Jane's, Loki quickly realized. Two great scroll cabinets stood at the far end of the room beside an open arch that lead to the vast observatory itself. Loki remembered the musty scent of parchment as soon as he stepped across the threshold, and he glanced up instinctively at the clear dome, his vision filled with the cold light of Asgard's closest moon. They would need no torch light in here.

Jane was already marching toward the map vaults when he reached for her shoulder and drew her back. "Please sit." He indicated a chair and she obeyed, her face etched with questions. His fingers ran delicately over the well-worn edges as he walked beside table before coming to a halt at the far end. His hand slipped from sight as he flipped a latch, and watched as the table slid apart in one quick, graceful motion. Jane's reaction was not as fluid, and he smirked at her muttered oath of surprise as she jumped back. From the center of it all rose two great rolls of ancient paper bound together in scarlet ribbon.

"Untie it," Loki ordered quietly, and Jane was only too eager to comply.

The map immediately spilled outward, tumbling over the smooth surface in either direction until it had stretched the full length of the long table. Jane's hand flew to her mouth as she watched it unfold, her eyes betraying her excitement as she glanced over at him in muted wonder.

"Your master atlas," Loki said slowly as he returned to stand at her side.

Then Jane was moving in a flurry of conversation and paper. One moment she was leaning in to study it all in greater detail, the next found her skittering further down to follow the whirling galaxies to their final, farthest ink strokes. "Midgard!" Jane finally exclaimed, running delicate fingers over the etched realm, ancient but still bold against the parchment. "And Asgard! Oh wow, are we really that far away? How many light years have I traveled here?"

"I believe I heard it to be a hundred thousand, as the Asgardian raven flies."

Jane gaped at him before returning her attention to the scrolls. "This detail is amazing! Every star must be on this map—" She stopped short and glanced up at him with a flashing grin. "The red giants! What direction did that balcony face, the one we were on the other night?"

Anxiety soured Loki's stomach. "South," he managed finally.

"South…south…" Jane mused, finding her place again on the chart. "The closest star in that quadrant had to have been at least 200,000 light years from Asgard when I first saw it. The distance is roughly equivalent to the size of Earth's irregular galaxies, so south of Asgard would be—" Her brow furrowed as her tongue stumbled over the word. "What's…Múspellsheimr?"

Loki swallowed, and with a trembling hand he pulled out the nearest chair and lowered himself into it before leaning his forearms on the table before him. "Muspelheim is one of the Nine Realms, made of consuming fire and turmoil that forged the beginning and end of the universe."

Jane stared at him. "You mean those red clouds the other night, those dying stars, are an entire realm?"

"If chaos can be said to have limits, yes."

"What livesthere?"

"Only that which goes to die there."

Jane gave him a quizzical look. "So it doesn't have any viable planets? Is life sustainable anywhere? I mean, it looks very similar to this galaxy that—"

"No," Loki shot back, then immediately checked himself. "No, not that has been discovered."

Jane had turned to study the fiery symbol branded into the ancient atlas. "If the Bifrost lets you visit any world, like Thor said, is there a way…"

Loki felt it hit him in full force, breaking the levees his mind had worked so hard to maintain the past few hours. Unsteadiness trickled cold through his veins and his throat rumbled in an unnatural chuckle. "And why would you want to do that?"

"Surely there's a way to get closer to it."

"Certainly!" Loki laughed through Odin's voice. "So is that it? You wish to touch a star as it dies?"

Jane blinked, her mouth dropping slightly open. "If it were—"

"Oh yes, it's possible. I've done it myself, or rather, I helped another do so."

"What happened?"

"What happens when fire meets flesh, Jane?"

The stretch of silence felt interminable. Jane's gaze dropped to her lap as she rubbed her fingers together restlessly, and Loki watched her from behind his dimming illusion. Exhaustion swept over him as it battled his frayed nerves and he gritted his teeth as he strained to concentrate the last of his energies on protecting his cover. He calmed as he secured it once more, slumping back with his head tilted to the ceiling,

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Jane's murmured, but her voice sounded clear across the empty space between them.

"You ask too many questions."

"Yeah, I can get pretty carried away," she said with a slight grimace. "I'm sorry, my timing's not always the best. And…thanks for helping me. I know I'm not even supposed to be here."

"No, you're not." Loki opened his eyes and they glinted in a shard of moonlight. "But you'll do as company for now. An old man grows weary of the same faces, you know."

Jane smiled but said nothing, her eyes roaming over the high mountains of books that corralled them in. She tried to stifle a yawn, but Loki could see that the lateness of the hour had finally taken its toll.

"Perhaps you should return to your chambers."

Jane rubbed her bleary eyes before dropping her hand back to rest upon the map. "Uh, maybe in a bit. I just wanted to—what's this?" Her fingers traced a lump beneath the sheaves and she carefully reached beneath them, pulling out a battered book bound in leather. "This wasn't here before."

Loki managed a smirk. "There is your history of the Nine Realms. No more questions."

But Jane was already flipping through the thin pages and only moments passed before she was absorbed in their contents. Scrambling about the research before her, she located her small notebook and began scribbling notes faster than he cared to follow. Loki sighed as he felt the final vestiges of fear slip away. There was something soothing about her presence, though her inquisitive nature had not entirely ceased to annoy his more solitary sensibilities. It had not been difficult to be civil to her, though his disguise gave him little freedom to act otherwise. The night's desperation and his long lack of sleep had robbed Loki of his sharper nature as the mask he wove about him every day weighed heavier upon his shoulders. He had not been himself, and he began to wonder just how much of his own identity remained. Odin, even in mimicry, would always hold him back.

Breaking from his reverie, Loki was surprised to find that Jane was asleep, her head resting against her right forearm that still held the book open before her. He tilted his head up to watch as the last sliver of moon slowly sunk from view, leaving the chamber entombed in an oppressive dark. Loki passed an hour in thoughtful silence before he finally gave in to the weariness that had gradually been pressing upon his eyelids. He stumbled to his feet and made it only as far as a soft armchair before he collapsed into it. The oblivion of an untroubled sleep immediately overtook him, and in the nothing that filled his mind he stretched out in contentment.

He did not wake when his illusion of Odin sputtered out in the darkness.