A/N: Another chapter for my wonderful readers! Enjoy :-)

The night stretched on endlessly as I lay on the earthen floor. I tossed and turned, more out of anxiety than discomfort. When I did sleep, I dreamed of terrible things. I dreamed of the end of the world by ice and fire. I watched helplessly as everything I knew and loved was obliterated, smashed to pieces. My final moment of slumber had been of a frost giant, enormous even by their standards.

His face was curled into a snarl and I looked on in abject horror as he impaled Loki atop the spire of a building. He coughed blood, the crimson liquid running down his chin; it seeped from the hole in his body and trickled down the metal, staining it red.

I woke with a start, a cold sweat beaded on my brow. Eithne was watching me curiously from her spot by the fire. I set my jaw and rubbed my temples in attempt to erase the obscene image from my mind. That would never happen. I wouldn't allow it to.

"You mumble in your sleep." She stated simply, not the slightest note of annoyance in her voice.

"Do I? What was I mumbling?"

"Something about fire. And ice. A moment ago you were repeating a very strange word, over and over again."

"Oh?"

"Lockey, I think."

"Loki?" I inquired as I rose to my feet.

"That's it. What does it mean?"

"It's um..." I debated whether to tell the truth or dismiss the matter entirely. She stared at me intensely.

"That's his name, isn't it?" My eyes flicked to hers and I saw a deep sorrow reflected there. "Your husband?"

I swallowed hard, grinding my teeth together as I thought. At length, I relented. "Yes. It is."

"Such an unusual name..."

"Well, he's not exactly from around here." A thought stuck me. "Eithne, before I leave, I was wondering if I could ask you something?"

Eithne's brow raised in alarm. I could tell she wanted me out of her home but I needed to at least exhaust every resource. After a clear internal debate, she finally nodded her head in allowance.

"I'm looking for something. A tool of vengeance, so to speak. I don't suppose you would know anything about the Scythes of Memoriae?"

Her features twisted from shock to fear in less than two seconds. "What could you possibly want with those?"

"So you know them, then?"

One of Eithne's brown eyes twitched anxiously. Birds chirped merrily in the distance, each of them blissfully unaware of our conversation. "There is not a single person on this island, neither man nor woman, who does not know of what you speak. Again, I ask you, what do you want with them?"

"As I said before, vengeance. A way to balance the scales in my favor."

She swallowed hard, her lips turning white at the thought. "I hardly think your former master, terrible though he may be, deserves such punishment."

"It is not only him I wish retribution upon." I replied evenly, inclining my head in defiance. She didn't need to know my motives. More than anything, I wanted to defeat Hel. I wanted to protect the ones I loved from her malevolence and wicked schemes. Legend stated that a champion of time would slay her; a challenge I was more than willing to take.

Eithne chewed her lip nervously. "You would destroy the Romans?"

If need be. "And anyone else who gets in my way." I replied icily. My own hatred alarmed me and I was forced to recall how very black my dark side was. It had remained buried for over a decade, slightly rising to the surface during my encounter with my sister's killer. Yet I knew how deep it ran. It was the reason I understood Loki so well. I shuddered to think of the things I was capable of doing, the glee I would feel should they come to pass.

"You cannot wield them! No one can! You would be destroyed by merely touching them!" I saw the panic in her eyes and knew there was a great deal more to the weapons than I understood. Still, I needed Eithne's help if I were to find them and I had no intentions of allowing my nightmare to come true. I needed the scythes, to save Loki, our daughter, and life as I knew it. I was desperate. And that was a dangerous thing indeed.

"It certainly wouldn't hurt to try. I'm willing to take the risk." I moved closer to her, aware of her flinch as I did so. "Do you not want to see the Romans decimated? After all they did to you and your family?" It was a tactic, a ploy to encourage her help. It may have been low, but I needed those blades. They were of the utmost importance. "Would you stop at nothing to have your revenge?"

Fear emanated from her, yet so did anger. I took the rage as a good sign. "If I agree to do this, to help you, I need you to promise me it ends once your vengeance is taken. That you will return those accursed blades to their proper place."

They must have been incredibly frightening to create such a reaction. "Consider it done." I extended my hand forward, not caring whether or not the gesture was appropriate. "Do we have a deal?" Eithne glanced from my outstretched hand to my face, repeating the cycle twice more. She sighed warily, her hand trembling as she gripped my own.

"Deal."

I couldn't restrain my eagerness, a smile erupting on my face. "Good. So, Eithne, where do we start?"