"I know that we are not the weight of all our memories…And I believe that the darkness reminds us where light can be."

-Christina Perri

Steve and Freyja slowly made their way through the crowds back to the booth where they had been sitting. When they finally pushed their way through the last of the crowds, they found the table empty. The only sign that there was once a group there was the few empty glasses and bottles. Steve and Freyja scanned the crowd, looking for a sign that their friends had not actually left them, but neither could see anyone familiar in the ever-shifting crowds.

"And they deem it appropriate to leave us behind," Freyja sighed. "No doubt Tony is drunk, Thor likely snuck away with Jane, Bruce is helping Tony, and Clint has left to check in with Fury or Natasha."

Steve shook his head, a wry smile on his face "Very considerate of them."

Freyja smiled in return, "Nevertheless, I will have to thank them. Tonight was the best I've had in centuries."

"You don't know just how strange that sounds…"

She laughed, "I'm sure a great deal of what I say sounds strange to you."

"So," he said, looking around. "Since everyone has been so thoughtful as to leave us here, do you mind if I walk you to the Tower? Rather than flagging down a cab, I mean."

"Not at all," she answered as they walked back to the door.

"So what are you going to do after tonight? You're really leaving?"

"I have no other acceptable choice," she said with a shrug. "I will go as far away as I can, stay a few days, and travel away once more."

"Is this because of that person you mentioned?" Steve asked. "Thanos?"

"…Yes."

"What does he hold over you to make you do this?"

"I wish I could tell you," she murmured quietly.

"And this is what you plan to do for the rest of eternity? You're going to keep running until the end of time?"

She shrugged, "There is nothing else I can do. There is no destroying the Tesseract and, even if it were possible, the action would kill me as well and leave Thanos to take out his rage elsewhere. I could lure Thanos into a trap, but it would never hold him for very long. I suppose I could kill Thanos, but would require going against everything that I have ever believed in. I know that sounds selfish but, if it really comes to that, I'm not sure I could kill him. I fear I am not strong enough."

"Being able to kill someone isn't strength, Freyja," he told her, a solemn edge to his voice. "It's living with yourself afterwards."

Freyja shook her head, her thoughts going back to a little Dwarven town she had visited long ago, "You know, a Dwarf once told me something very similar."

"He sounds like a very wise Dwarf," Steve said, stifling a scoff at how ridiculous he sounded.

"He was…"

Steve didn't mention how she spoke in past tense, realizing what that meant for her friend. It suddenly struck him as to why she had been so adamant about leaving Earth quickly. He wondered how many others she had watched die because of what she was protecting, because of what her father had saddled her with.

"What kind of father drops that much responsibility on his daughter?" he mused aloud.

"A poor one, but a father, nonetheless," she answered. "I did, however, happen to know a man who was more of a father to me."

His eyes snapped to hers, but she was looking up at the skyscrapers around him, "You mean Thor's father?"

There was no humor in her eyes as she laughed, "No, Odin is too much like Njord for my liking. His name was Algrim, the last of a race known as the Dark Elves."

He frowned at that, "How many races have gone extinct?"

"Within the Nine Realms, only the Dark Elves. But I fear, with the few Vanir who still live, that my people will meet the same fate in the near future."

"What were the Dark Elves?"

Steve felt a bit ashamed at his lack of knowledge on the topic, but Freyja didn't seem to mind, especially given that it got her mind off the topic of her people. She explained everything anyway, not caring that he didn't know everything about the Realms.

"The Elves were the closest species to my own, divided into sister races of dark and light, with the Dark Elves sharing a similar appearance to us but lacking our skill in magic. The Elves made their home in Alfheim. The Asgardians believed the Dark Elves to be born of eternal night – but that is an exaggeration due to their dark skin and the fact that their Realm has two red dwarf suns, creating an eternal night on one half."

"You don't have dark skin…" Steve pointed out.

She put a hand gently on his shoulder, but said nothing, and his vision blurred for a second. When he turned to ask her what she was doing, the words died on his tongue at the sight in front of him.

The red-haired, pale-skinned woman that he had known Freyja as had been replaced by a willowy, almost skeletal, creature who towered about a foot and a half over him. She had strange skin that seemed to be a mix of black, purple, and blue and straight, waist-length hair that was silver like starlight and moved like water when she turned to look at him. Her face was long and lean and the sharp features made her look ethereal and striking. The only thing that reminded him that the strange being before his eyes was Freyja was the otherworldly blue eyes that questioned him silently.

Though oddly beautiful, there was something about her like this that put him on edge, like he had come face-to-face with a panther. She dropped her hand and the glimpse was gone, replaced once more by her generally human form, but Steve couldn't shake the image of what she truly looked like under the now frighteningly realistic façade.

"Was that-"

"My true form. This," she gestured at herself, "is nothing more than a mask I wear for the sake of others' comfort. The only other outsider who has seen my true self is Loki."

Steve tried to find something to say. When it became clear that he had no words for what he had seen, or what the significance of it was, Freyja began to speak once more.

"As I was saying, the Dark Elves shared many characteristics with us, including our past enmity with Asgard. Tensions were brewing between Asgard and Svartalfheim, the half of Alfheim cloaked in eternal night, and the Dark Elves sought out an object of myth. Asgard scoffed at the idea, until they found it. They called it the Aether, and learned how to use it not only to bring back their dead, but also to convert matter into dark matter. They meant only to use it if Asgard attacked, but Odin's father, Bor, saw it as a threat and declared war on them.

"A Light Elf by the name of Malekith rose to lead the Dark Elf armies, for he was the most ruthless of his Realm. He reigned destruction down on Asgard in ways no other race had before. Desperate for victory, Bor freed and enlisted the aid of Surtur, a Fire Ettin with a Dwarf-forged sword called Elderstahl. The sword was strong enough to withstand even the power of the Aether, but it also sought out the worst in the wielder and corrupted them beyond repair. It was the move of a desperate king, but never had the self-proclaimed leaders of the Nine been brought low before. He could not suffer such shame.

"Of course, Odin had to destroy Surtur long after, as the Ettin was moving on to other Realms to destroy, but that is a story for another time. Surtur distracted the Dark Elves and the Æsir were able to steal the Aether away. Without their weapon, Surtur and the armies of Asgard moved through Svartalfheim. They killed anyone – soldiers, civilians, children, elders, it did not matter to them once they were under Elderstahl's influence. Malekith sacrificed his soldiers to stop them, and he did destroy the corrupted Einherjar, but it was too late for the Dark Elves. Surtur escaped and half of Alfheim was left in ruin.

"Bor found Algrim on a scouting mission to the last battlefield. He was bloodied and very nearly crippled, but his wife and sons had been killed. Bor brought him to Asgard, for a reason unknown to me, and he became Odin's personal manservant. When Odin took the throne, he gave Algrim a seat among the Diar, his council of advisors. It was a scandal which never quite died.

"When I came to Asgard, he and Loki were the ones who found me. He treated me as he would have his children, taught me more than my father ever had, and I loved him as a child would a parent. I was drawn to him because he showed me an affection I never received from my true father."

"Does he know you're alive?" Steve asked, smiling at how her harsh tone turned tender when she spoke of Algrim.

Her expression turned dark, "By the time the destruction of my own people came, Algrim had long since passed. He was killed for his crimes against Asgard…"

"Crimes?"

"I left Asgard when I was twelve to travel to each of the Nine Realms for six years, as was the tradition of my people. It was during this time that Loki, Thor, and the Warriors Three journeyed to Jötunheim in search of Elderstahl. They eventually found it, but also started a war between the Jötunns and Æsir by accident.

"In order to keep the peace, Algrim set off to find the group. When he found them, they gave him the sword, but it proved too powerful for him. He already harbored much resentment and bitterness towards Asgard for bringing Surtur's bloodlust to his Realm and the sword simply magnified his emotions until all reason was lost. He abandoned the group to confront Odin out of revenge.

"He nearly destroyed the palace out of rage, wishing to cause the fall of the House of Odin. Thor and Loki managed to return before Odin was killed, and Thor confronted Algrim while Loki watched over his unconscious father. Algrim was defeated, but it was Loki who killed him with Elderstahl, out of revenge for his gravely wounded father.

"I returned roughly four years later to find that the man I once thought of as family had turned traitor and was mourned by none. None except Loki, Thor, and I who remembered him as he had been: the father-figure we had never had. Algrim treated us all as if we were his own children, offering us what Odin and Njord never could. I believe we reminded him of his sons…"

"Loki killed Algrim?"

She shrugged, "The Asgardians react to threats in rash and unorthodox ways. I would not have killed Algrim, had it been me in such a place, but I understand Loki's actions."

Freyja stopped suddenly, holding out her hand before her. She frowned as a drop hit her palm and she looked up at the sky as she spoke.

"Rain, even the faintest of drizzles, on a night of the new moons – or moon, as it so happens. Do you know what that means?"

He gave her a sideways glance, his tone dry as he tried to lighten the mood, "We're going to get wet because neither of us have an umbrella?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "Well, I suppose that is one way to perceive it. I meant, do you know how it relates to the future?"

"No…"

"In my culture, it is an omen of sudden change in the near future. I suppose that pertains to my departure," she said, her words trailing off before she turned to meet Steve's eyes. "Speaking of which, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Go ahead."

"I must leave tomorrow, but I fear S.H.I.E.L.D. try to stop me. I need you to create a diversion of sorts so that I may access my jet, as you call it, and leave in peace. It would seem to me that you understand exactly why it is so important that I leave." –she waited for him to nod before asking – "Can you aid me in this?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded, "Of course. Why won't S.H.I.E.L.D. let you leave, though?"

"Director Fury wishes to glean any amount of knowledge of the Tesseract from me, which I cannot do. Aside from being bound by my word, there will also be someone above him who will use the knowledge I give in destructive ways, and that I cannot allow. It would be no better than handing it to Thanos."

"Why does Thanos want the Tesseract so desperately?"

She looked him up and down, sighing in resignation, "I cannot tell you all of which you ask but, provided you honor your word, I could divulge a few of his reasons. However, I warn you: if you speak of it to anyone else, you condemn my soul to eternal unrest."

"What you say stays between us," he told her.

She inhaled deeply, thinking over what she could and couldn't tell him, "The Tesseract is one of six items of immeasurable power which, when one holds dominion over all of them, allow the user to manipulate the very fabric of reality. No one is certain where they came from, but they are old as Time. Thanos wants them because he is obsessed with Death and believes he can win Death's favor by destroying the worlds."

"Thanos wants to destroy the Nine Realms to please an abstract concept?"

She smiled roguishly, "Oh, Death can take the form of any being they want. And there were never just nine Realms.

"What?"

"The Nine Realms are no more than a grain of sand in a desert. We are infinitesimal in compare," she told him. "There are worlds within worlds; parallel universes that coexist side-by-side and never touch. Dimensions that exist on a different astral plane than our own, each one so close and yet so far. And all of them can be reached through the Tesseract. Even if Thanos destroyed every world in our universe, he would simply move to the next, eventually wiping out life in every dimension. That is why I can never let him find it."

"And no one else knows about this?"

"Only five people in my time knew the truth but, now, only I remain. You're the only outsider I have ever told this to," she said. "I suppose that you could think of yourself as the unofficial human ambassador to Vanaheim."

He raised his eyebrows, "Me, Earth's ambassador? I don't think I'm qualified for that."

"Nonsense. You are more qualified than any agent S.H.I.E.L.D. can come up with. You are by far the most rational, unbiased, trustworthy human I have ever come across. And in my time, I have seen many of your people."

"Well, for the record, you're the most peaceful and considerate alien I've ever met."

She laughed, "I can't imagine you've met many peaceful beings of late, what with Asgardians being prone to violence."

"They haven't exactly gotten us to trust them completely. Then again, I suppose you can't blame us if you look at what they've done. First Thor arrives in New Mexico, bringing a machine called the Destroyer trailing after him, courtesy of a family grudge. Then Loki comes with hopes of conquering our planet, another alien army in tow. Both incidents have made S.H.I.E.L.D. wary of any alien that decides to turn up for a visit."

"I understand. My own people grew so worried that we cut our home world off from the rest. Asgard particularly drew our ire," she informed him. "The Destroyer was a Vaniric creation meant to be used as a defensive measure, but the Asgardians used it for war. It was like that for a long time, my people would invent a new technological advancement, and the other realms would use it for violence. So we moved Vanaheim to a new branch of Yggdrasil and cloaked it in several layers of incantations. No outsiders have seen Vanaheim in four millennia."

He whistled, "So your people just separated themselves from the rest of the worlds?"

"We were always separated, just not by space. We are different from the rest of the worlds, created to keep balance between all of the Nine Realms and the Unknown, according to the spiritual belief of my people. No matter how comfortable the other races make us in their Realms, we will always stand alone. The strange Vanir that keep calm for eternity and make a man lose his will."

"I don't think you're that strange."

She gave him a skeptical look.

He laughed, "I didn't say you weren't kind of odd, I just said you aren't that strange."

"You sound like Loki now," she noted sadly. "Playing with words to change their meanings."

"Is that one of the reasons you liked him?"

"Hmm?"

"Because you two were so alike, so different from the rest of your own?"

She nodded, "We were, and always will be, two outsiders among the worlds. But it is better to be outcast with another than to be alone despite acceptance."

"You were an outcast?"

"It's difficult to explain exactly how my life was before I left for Asgard. Although none but my father and a handful of Healers knew, I'm not entirely Vaniric and I think, deep down, the rest of us could sense it. Though they were kind to me and I to them, there was always a sense of distance between myself and the rest of my people. And you already have a clue as to how my father was. Under the pressure of both, I found I could not bear to stay any longer."

"So that's why you left."

"Do not mistake me, I loved Vanaheim and her people. It just wasn't home," she said, suddenly giving a hollow sort of laugh. "Of course, Asgard wasn't home, either. But it was where I learned the truth."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Only Freyr and Loki," she answered. "I told him of my blood, but I could not tell him that I was older than him. I couldn't bring myself to do so."

"How was it important?"

Her expression lost all traces of contentment, turning grim at his words, "I was the elder child and my father's true firstborn. It may mean nothing to you here, but it was significant on Vanaheim. There is power in our blood and magic in our souls. As the firstborn child, the ritual used to crown the next king would have failed on Freyr, as the ancient magics would not have recognized his claim. He always wanted the throne as a child, often telling me of what he would do, what he would change. I didn't have a word for it at the time, but he wanted to move Vanaheim's government from an absolute monarchy to an executive one. His vision would never have been realized fully."

His eyes widened, "You couldn't have abdicated?"

"No. The ancient magics don't recognize loopholes and would have required nothing short of my death, without an heir, in order for Freyr to become king."

Steve thought over her words, something about her story nagging at him, "I thought the Vanir can't lie. How did your father get away with hiding your true identity?"

"He said that I was his daughter, which was the truth. He always said my mother died giving birth to me, which was also true, and he always said so when he directed the answer to me. By doing so, he was speaking only to me and was, therefore, not lying to Freyr. We didn't speak of her often, allowing him to evade most questions. Most of his deception was simply manipulating the truth."

"How did you find out?"

She looked intently at her feet, kicking an empty bottle aside as they neared the Tower, "I read a bit of Queen Van's journal to find out more about the woman I had believed to be my mother. It was there I read of an Elf-Vanir baby that my father brought to the palace. She killed herself out of grief when she found out I was his.

"I ran off to Alfheim – for what, I'm not entirely sure – but I managed to stumble across my aunt, Ysmay, and her daughter Eira. I must subconsciously remember what my mother looked like, for I actually took a similar form when I first traveled to Asgard, and she recognized me from that. I suppose fate is funny that way. Ysmay took me into their home, told me of all she knew, even gave me my mother's sketchbook." – she smiled sadly now, her eyes still miles away – "She was an artist on Alfheim, a gift I did not inherit, and had even painted portraits for the Queen of Alfheim.

"I did not speak to my father or brother for a week after – too afraid to face them with the truth. I did not even leave my rooms. I would not accept any visitors, refused to eat or sleep. I felt broken. It was three days before I finally allowed Loki to see me, but no one else. He comforted me for the rest of the week, but he could only do so much. The rest was up to me.

"I eventually left my chambers for Vanaheim where I confronted my father about my revelations. It was from then that our shaky relationship fell apart at last. I cut my ties to him and never looked back."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I confess, I do not know exactly why," she said, looking to him at last. "I suppose it is because you are the first to listen in a very long time. But I should not burden you with such. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive. But there must be someone else who'll listen."

"Thor and Loki are too close to the matter and, I fear the more they hear, the more anxiety I will cause them. And I do not trust your comrades enough just yet. Bruce is kind enough, but I do not know him all that well. Tony is…well, you and I both know how Tony is. Clint and Natasha would only…"

She stopped suddenly, her eyes focusing on something beyond Steve's shoulder as she narrowed her eyes. He was standing on the sidewalk, staring at her from across the road, as the few people around him walked past as though they could not see him. She could have recognized those green eyes anywhere. But Loki could not truly be there, she knew.

He stood rigidly against the window of a closed store, his entire posture radiating with discomfort. He wore the same suit as when she had thought she saw him earlier. His jaw was set angrily, at what she couldn't tell, and his eyes glittered with betrayal.

"Freyja, are you okay?"

She turned to Steve, "Do you see him?"

He glanced in the direction she had been staring, "Who? There's no one I know over there…"

She turned her head to see that Loki had gone, leaving only a few stragglers behind. What was going on? Was she losing her mind?

"He was just there…" she murmured.

Steve eyed her cautiously, his words quiet as he said, "We'd better get back to the Tower. I think the night's starting to get to your head."

"Perhaps," she conceded grudgingly, turning her eyes away from where Loki had been standing.

Steve took her arm, surprising her with the gesture, and led her down the street again. She immediately thought about Loki and how the gentle touch at her elbow reminded her of him. Her mind brought up memories of dancing with him, of picnics with his children, of stargazing on the Bifrost in the middle of the night.

"Steve," she started, thinking about the knowledge she had just given him.

"Yes?"

"There is something I must give you," she answered, retrieving the object through magic.

She held it in her palm so he could see. It was an obsidian pendant in the shape of a howling wolf, fashioned so that is looked more like a silhouette than anything. Each link of its silver chain was inscribed with graceful runes.

"Thank you?" Steve muttered, wondering what had prompted the gesture.

She rolled her eyes, "It is not an ordinary necklace, as you are thinking, it is an amulet. You're going to need the protection it entails, or trouble will seek you out for the knowledge I have given you."

He looked at her skeptically, taking it carefully from her.

"Wear it on your person at all times and no spiritual or mental harm shall befall you."

"Isn't it the physical harm I should worry about?" he said, his tone only half serious.

"Not anymore. Welcome to my world of shadows and reality," she said, her mouth tugging into a grin. "You may be bruised, beaten, cut, and broken, but you are not truly harmed until the sanctity of your mind has been defiled. Your body is temporary, but your mind and soul are eternal. The fight is never truly over until your spirit has been lost."

He looked at her worriedly, tucking the necklace into his pocket. The way she was speaking made him think that she was saying this out of experience. He wondered how much she had truly kept from him. Her tone, however, was beginning to scare him a bit. She looked more exhausted than ever, and her rambling and staring into space was not reassuring. He knew they were close to the Avengers Tower, but he began wondering whether rest would actually help Freyja. In the fluorescent lights of the city, she looked older than she had at the club.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

"I feel fine, honestly. I'm simply dreading tomorrow."

He nodded, not quite believing her, but didn't say anything more. They walked in silence for a good ten minutes, the only sounds coming from the occasional passing car. He was honestly grateful for how late it was. It kept them from being bothered by paparazzi and the like, who had been following Steve and the other Avengers when they could. He had no doubt that if they could have seen he and Freyja, they would have likely spun a story of speculated romance, which would only serve to add gasoline to the fire that was Tony's conjecture.

"When do you want me to distract Fury and the other agents?" Steve asked, hoping to break the silence that had overtaken them.

"Meet me at the Tower at nine in the morning, and we shall journey to the Triskelion together."

"Okay," he answered as they turned the corner to see the tower not ten feet before them.

"Thank you for accompanying me," she said, inclining her head slightly. "And forgive me for worrying you."

Steve opened his mouth to ask how she had known, but remembered what she had said about reading his aura and instead said, "Don't mention it. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Do you not have a floor in this tower to call home?" she asked.

He glanced up at the building, a smile on his face, "I do. But I think I'll stay out for a little bit and clear my head. Good night, Freyja"

"Good night, Steven," she muttered, being careful to only touch the glass door by the steel handle.

She shuffled into the elevator, wishing, not for the first time, that she could freeze time. She couldn't count the number of times she had fought her weariness and started on her journey again. It was tiring. She would become comfortable in one place for a week, only to find her strength to leave waning. The tediousness of the reoccurring situation was enough to push her over the edge. And yet she clung desperately to the little strength she had.

She cursed her father silently, wishing he had a heart enough to not condemn her to such punishment. She knew she was dying. Not in the physical way that the humans around her would, but something slower and less noticeable. Her hope for something better was fading. But she didn't want to die, that much she had proved to herself time and time again, and so she would keep going until Thanos's past caught up with him or until she finally lost all her strength to carry on. Or until the prophecy comes true, she thought morbidly.

The elevator opened as it reached the penthouse. She walked out quietly, making sure not to wake Bruce, who had fallen asleep on the couch. As she closed the door of her borrowed rooms behind her, she became aware of a familiar presence.

Her head snapped in the direction of the corner of the room. In the shadows, she could just make out the figure of a man. He was sitting on a wooden chair, head hanging dejectedly, but she couldn't mistake the black hair that clung to the nape of his neck. He shifted, and she caught a glimpse of deep blue.

"So, the soldier…" a low, familiar voice trailed off.

Her eyes widened as she realized she had been right all along.

"Loki?"