Okay, this one decided to completely jump tracks from what I had planned. It's shorter than the others but it is necessary. I don't usually write filler chapters. Anyway, I apologize for killing Jane but it moves the story forward and works with the plot. Hopefully the rest of the story will make that up. Also, I'm changing one of the genres to "angst" simply because that's what it's become. But enough of my rambling. Hope you enjoy.

Song of the Chapter: Lost in Paradise ~ Evanescence

The lyrics simply fit too well.

Chapter 12

Grave Triviality

"The greatest hazard of all, losing one's self, can occur very quietly in the world, as if it were nothing at all. No other loss can occur so quietly; any other loss - an arm, a leg, five dollars, a wife, etc. - is sure to be noticed."

― Søren Kierkegaard

Freyja didn't watch as the boat Jane had been laid in caught fire, but sat on the edge of the rocky beach and turned away. She couldn't bear to watch another friend's body turn to smoke and ash. She couldn't bear knowing that she was no closer to finding the murderer than she was before. And she couldn't bear to meet the eyes of those around her, wondering whether it was their face she would see lifeless next. So she sat away from the service and watched the ocean crash against the shore.

It was an Asgardian funeral, despite the fact that she had brought Bruce, Steve, Darcy, and Erik to attend. But they could not find the capacity to marvel at the splendor of Asgard with Jane dead. The whole of Asgard was grieving but only Freyja felt ashamed. She leaned her head back against the rock behind her and closed her eyes in hopes of finding some form of peace.

Even through the silence, she could not drive away what had turned into a dull ache in her heart. She began to drive away the pain in the only way she knew how when respite refused to find her. Though she loathed doing so, she forced herself to cut away any and all emotion. It pained her that it came so easily, as it had been what she had loathed in her father, but it was efficient to drive out what would lead her to madness if she lingered on it. She made herself cold for that one moment to see if it had done anything for her father. He had suffered through great inflictions as well and had somehow found solace in apathy. Perhaps she could find the same, only if for an instant.

A hand on her shoulder caused her to glance up, meeting the silver eyes of her brother. He sat down slowly beside her, wincing as he did.

"You're wounds are not healing as quickly as they should be," she noted.

"I will be fine in time."

"The Healers have told me that you've been having migraines of late."

He grimaced, "I wish they had not repeated that."

"You should have told me yourself," she replied. "I thought we kept no secrets between us."

"I did not want to frighten you needlessly. I am certain it is just the aftereffects of the poisons."

"I'm worried for you, Freyr. With you not healing, you are an easy target for whoever is murdering these people."

"Do you really believe he will target a prince?"

"He targeted Thor and me through Jane. I'm unsure as to how far he will go. He murdered Jane while we were within a stone's throw of her, Freyr. Whoever he is, he is toying with us and flaunting his ability to do as he pleases."

"And you have no idea who he is?"

She sighed in exasperation, "Where am I to find a blue-eyed sorcerer who has full knowledge of the houses of Odin and Njord as well as our religion?"

"I don't know. No Vanir has blue eyes, besides yourself, and no Asgardian has taken the time to learn our ways except Loki."

"What am I to do?" she whispered, drawing her knees up and resting her chin upon them. "I can do nothing to protect these people. I can but guess who will fall next while I struggle to find out who is behind this mess."

"I wish I could aid you, but I fear I know no more about this than you do."

"It is understandable," she breathed. "Do you ever wonder what would have occurred if Father had allowed me to die?"

He gave her a worried glance, "No. I do not. Why are you thinking on such grim topics?"

"Think of all that would not have occurred. Vanaheim would still be part of the Nine, Midgard would not have suffered Thanos's wrath, these people would not be dying, and Father would be content."

"Father was never content, even when you left," Freyr protested. "His apathy was due to his own mistakes and you ended up taking the brunt of the damage. That was not your fault."

"But it is mine that so many have lost their lives."

"Being incapable of stopping death does not mean you are to blame."

"I am not incapable, I am too hesitant."

"There is nothing wrong with thinking things through."

She looked away, "There is when it keeps you from protecting your family."

"Freyja, had you died before Father brought you to us, we would have never known you. What worlds would we traverse without knowing your kindness and compassion? Where would any of us be without you in our lives? Never doubt that your existence does anything but benefit the rest of us."

"Can you speak those words truthfully to those who have died because of me?"

"How many?" he asked with a sigh.

She raised a questioning eyebrow, "How many what?"

"How many have died because you were unable to act?"

She pulled back the collar of her tunic slightly to reveal the long rows of hash marks tattooed into her shoulder, "I've lost count."

"Is there no way to remedy what you have undergone?"

She shook her head, "There are some wounds that time will never heal, some scars that will never fade."

"Is there nothing we can do?"

She looked away, knowing he would not like the answer, "You could remove my memories of those I have watched fall."

A horrified look crossed his face, "I would never do such a thing. To tamper with your memories would be exceedingly dangerous. Your mentality could be altered beyond repair. You would become someone else."

"Then I am condemned to suffer until death claims me," she breathed. "Which will be soon if the prophecy of Renascentia is to be heeded."

"Do you truly resign yourself to this fate, sister?"

"What can I do?" she asked, fighting back the despair in her voice. "I have attempted to fight fate before, but it has never turned out right."

"Wise One help us all if you have given up."

"I am not giving up, Freyr. I am simply giving in."

"What difference is there in those words?"

"None," she answered with a shrug. "That is the problem with words. They are hollow."

He put a hand on her arm, "I have never seen you this way. You have always been the fighter, the one to hope against all odds. What has happened to you?"

"I have seen too much anguish for one lifetime and not enough peace. That is my lot in life. I will watch the worlds fall until my heart frosts over."

"Then you will not do so alone. I will stand beside you, Freyja, as will Loki, Thor, and Kenna."

"Kenna," she echoed venomously. "She would not stand beside me unless she had a chance to run me through in the meanwhile."

"She is not as terrible as you make her out to be. I admit, she can be difficult but she is fiercely protective of those she loves."

"Do not tell me she has won you over, as well."

"What are you speaking of?"

Freyja felt panic rise within her as she thought of it, "But that is how it will be, isn't it? Is that not what the prophecy states? I will be the lamb led to slaughter while another takes my place in the realms. If she is to be the one to take my life when I have gone, why not become close to you? Even Loki falls for her act."

She stood up midway through her words, backing away from her brother slowly. Freyr looked up at her with shocked silver eyes before getting to his feet, too. He reached out tentatively as if approached a wounded animal that might strike him. She recoiled, shaking her head.

"It is what she wants. Let her have you all. Perhaps it will dull your pain when I die. If you forget what I meant, it will not hurt you when I must go."

"Freyja…"

"No," she whispered. "I want you to. I don't want any of you to grieve for me. I want you to. I don't want you to hurt because of me."

He reached for her hand once more, but she shifted into the form of an eagle and took to the sky. She could hear him calling desperately after her, but the weakness of his magic kept him from following. He had been so completely drained of energy of late that she feared he would wither away. Something was terribly wrong with him but she could not worry about that at the moment.

She flew as quickly as she could through the warm Asgardian skies as she made her way to her chambers at the palace. The wind blowing against her did little to hinder her progress, leaving her journey to last only mere minutes. She clattered to the floor of her balcony gracelessly as she transformed back into her Asgardian guise. Pushing through the doors, she stopped short at who stood before her.

She had not noticed Odin's absence at the funeral for Jane, but it quickly became apparent to her that she had not seen him there. He stood still as stone, watching as she approached. The expression on his face caused her to wonder if he was trying to deduce something about her that she refused to say.

"I am aware that you warned Jane of her test," he said slowly.

"What leads you to this conclusion, Allfather?" she asked, voice devoid of emotion.

"I am no fool, Freyja. Had Jane not known, the Unknown would have caught her off-guard. She would have screamed for Thor's help."

She shrugged, "I spoke not a word to Jane before the task."

His stormy gray eye narrowed, "Then how did she know? How did you find a way to warn her without breaking your oath?"

"There is a saying I've heard among the Æsir that rings quite true. Your people say to not engage the Vanir in verbal battles of wit for we will never fail to find an easy victory. Just as you should not go to us for counsel, for we will leave you more confused than when you arrived."

"Did you show her of her task through a mental-"

"What does it matter?" she snapped. "Jane will never become Thor's queen, which was your goal, was it not? Now he may find comfort in Sif and marry her. You always thought Sif would make a great queen for Asgard."

"I will not deny that she is stronger than the mortal."

"Jane had her own form of strength that comes with mortality. They burn so much brighter than us, the humans. But you do not see it, Odin. And I pity you for such blindness."

"In what way am I blind?"

She shook her head, "You can be wise, but you are essentially quite naïve. But tell me: what truly happened to Loki's first wife, Angrboda?"

Something dark flickered in his eye before his face went blank, "I do not know what you speak of."

"Do you think me a fool, Allfather? I would not be surprised as many do. I cannot count the people who have looked upon me and thought being the goddess of beauty and love meant I was empty-headed. I see the reason you would have poisoned Angrboda. People become fools when they are afraid, and not even you and I are exceptions."

"Those are the words of a grieving woman."

"So my words are to be dismissed because I am saddened by the death of a friend?"

"I will not take them as I normally would, as your wisdom is impaired by your sorrow. You have a fragile heart-"

"A fragile heart?" she demanded. "I have watched friends die before my eyes and my own world collapse. When it was deemed necessary, I slayed the Titan lord who threatened those I had come to love. I survived weeks of torture and found my way back to Asgard. I traversed the Nine Realms to keep death from the remains of my family. Look me in the eye and tell me these are the acts of a fragile heart. Despite what you believe, I am a warrior in my own right and will not be dismissed as some helpless maiden who cowers away from danger."

He gave her a hard look, "No, you do not have a fragile heart. You are much like your father."

Freyja froze at the comparison, unable to form words in reply.

"He, too, had a handsome face," Odin continued, "which hid a cold heart beneath. You share the same capacity to be both merciful and cruel as he had. Like him, you have the ability to cut yourself away from emotion. In ways, you are just like Njord."

She pointed a shaking hand at the door and hissed, "Get out."

"I will leave when-"

"Leave!"

Silver tendrils of her aura flared to life at her fingertips as she yelled. He stood up slowly and walked out the door, not sparing a glance back as he did. It did not bother her. She simply wanted him out of her sight. Turning around briskly, she stopped short at the sight before her. Right where she had walked into the room through the balcony, a single object stood embedded into her floor.

She would recognize the red and orange cross-guard and pommel from any distance. It was impossible to forget Elderstahl. The only question left was how it had up in her chambers. She approached the blade slowly, noticing a small slip of parchment wrapped around the hilt. Pulling it off hesitantly, she recognized the precise script of the murderer. You will need this.

She snarled at the message as it turned to ash in her hands. Tugging the blade out of her floor, a bright blue reminiscent of the Tesseract bled over its surface as flames leapt to reality. It glowed with the cerulean light as a familiar power washed over her. A glance at the mirror told her that her eyes were shining just as brightly, matching the sword eerily.

A look of shock crossed her face as she caught a glimpse of an all too recognizable tapestry behind her. She turned to see the tapestry of her family hanging on her wall. It had been nearly a millennium since she disposed of the wretched thing, not wanting to see a false portrayal of what she had thought to be her family at the time. And yet the murderer had somehow found it and placed it for her to find.

Even as a woven pattern, the younger version of herself looked innocent yet haunted. Her fingers trailed from the face to her father's. He looked as empty as always, completely unaffected by what he knew would become of her and what she would be.

Rage flared up within her, mixing dangerously with the feeling of grief and desolation. Her free hand trembled against the weaving before she raised Elderstahl and sliced through it with a cry of torment. It cut easily through the yarn, the unwinding strings falling to her feet.

But what did it matter? Her family had been in shambles for far too long. She had fought so hard for them and nothing had come of it. Her father had dismissed her attempts to find some form of caring within him. Thanos had stolen away her brother and crippled him. Now some puppet for the Titan was bound and determined to destroy all she had left.

She thought of Thor, who was no doubt crushed by the loss of Jane. And of Sif, who watched the man she loved fall deeply for another. Of Freyr, who had done nothing but help her and was tortured for his efforts. Animi, who she had not thought of in years, had died trying to protect her. Then there was herself, who would never find happiness without angst because fate loved to toy with her. But Loki topped off the list, as he was forced to watch her leave him over and over because the world refused to leave them alone.

But Kenna would find it all. She would find happiness and a home in the ashes of Freyja's life. While the world collapsed around her, the Jotun would see that all was turning right for her. She had never been jealous in her life but as she thought of the Frost Giant, she could not suppress the envy for what would come to the other woman. Fate had chosen her to suffer the grievances of a thousand lives while Kenna would have peace without feeling a single ache.

"It's not fair!" she screamed, throwing the contents of her desk to the floor with a swipe of her free arm.

She toppled furniture in her fury, tearing through anything in sight. Though flames danced around the silver blade, nothing caught fire while she sliced through her belongings. What use were they if she would no longer need them in death. When only the mirror remained intact, she threw Elderstahl at it. The shards of crystal tumbled to the floor as she found her strength had left her. Her knees gave way and she crumpled to the ground. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing as everything that had happened to her came rushing back. All the emotions she had fought over the centuries flooded into her as something snapped within her.

She did not look up as familiar footsteps approached her, nor when a wintry touch brushed against her shoulders. Loki said nothing as he carefully pried her fingers from the sword and pulled her into his arms. He led her to her bedchamber, green eyes full of sadness for both his brother and her.

Her fingers gripped the leather of his armor as he sat her down on the bed next to him. He rested his chin atop her head as she pressed her face to his chest, his fingers brushing through her hair. When she pulled herself up and kissed him hungrily, he fought back the urge to back away in surprise.

"Make me forget," she whispered. "Make me forget everything wrong in this world."

"No, Freyja," he breathed, pulling her hands from around his neck.

"Why? I do not wish to remember anything that is occurring. I want to forget it all and leave it behind."

"I will not do that, love."

"Why?"

"It would be wrong."

She looked away, "It is not enough. No matter what I do, it is never enough."

"I know," he breathed. "Things will get better."

"You're wrong," she breathed in her own language. "They will get worse."

Neither said a word after that. In the silence of the room, the only sound they could hear was the beating of their hearts. But there was something comforting in that, something in the simplicity that drove the pain away.