Okay, this one was a lot easier to write once I got started. I decided to go back and use a dream sequence as it's been a while since I last used one and they're very effective. Also, this chapter's slightly bipolar, as well. I'm afraid I can't do anything for emotional or mental whiplash. I wish I could say things will be smoother, but that would be a lie. Anyway, thanks to all of you who have read/are reading and special thanks to those who review, as well. I'll stop talking now and let you read. Enjoy!

Song of the Chapter: Not Enough ~ Our Lady Peace

Chapter 14

Composed Desperation

"There was something so heavy about the burden of history, of the past. I wasn't sure I had it in me to keep looking back."

―Sarah Dessen

Freyja gazed at her surroundings, panting as a sword hung limp in her hand. If she didn't know better, she would say that she was in Asgard. But she had never seen it in such a state. The air around her crackled and shifted with an immeasurable amount of energy. Smoke rose from the wreckage of the buildings around her, flames flickering through the holes and windows. It looked as if a war had been waged within the city.

Her grip on the sword tightened as she scanned the ruins for someone she could not remember. Glancing at her weapon, she realized it was Elderstahl, still an electric blue in color. Or perhaps it was Sorsauctor now. A voice caused her to look up in surprise. The person walking out of the rubble of a collapsed building was no more than a mirrored image of herself.

The false version held neither a sword nor any other discernible weapon, but tendrils of its aura trailed from its fingers. The smoke was not of one color, however, but of many as if the user was more than one person within a body. Freyja only knew of one other with a similar aura, but the Greek goddess would have no reason to be in Asgard. Besides, Iris had no reason to harbor ill will towards her.

"It never ceases to surprise me at just how foolish a race renowned for wisdom can be," the doppelganger laughed. "You seemed to be almost surprised with me. Did you expect someone less familiar with you?"

"Please," Freyja begged. "Do not force my hand."

"Then allow me to destroy this Realm," it replied. "You cannot deny that the Æsir have wronged us both."

"These people are innocent. Murdering them will not bring back Vanaheim."

"No, but I will not rest until the House of Odin feels what we have suffered."

The flames from around them converged towards as the false-Freyja raised its arms. There was a wild look in its eyes as it directed the fire at her. Freyja raised Sorsauctor in defense, deflecting the attack. Wasting no time, she rushed towards the mimic, sword raised to strike. Just as she reached it, she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection on its armor. She had never seen such anger.

She fell through reality as the sword descended, everything slipping away as she landed in a new circumstance. She was at the remnants of the Bifrost. Thor grappled at the edge, trying desperately to pull himself up. A white-haired and overtired Loki knelt at its center as if he was holding it together with his energy alone. Freyja watched as a version of herself stumbled towards them, knife in hand.

"Loki," the image whispered, laying its free hand on his shoulder. "Loki, you can stop. It's over."

Light flooded back into the crystal and Loki stood up shakily.

"Help Thor," he muttered. "I am fine."

The doppelganger tilted his face up as if it might kiss him before it drove the dagger through his heart. Loki's eyes widened and his knees buckled, but it caught him by the throat and held him up. Thor yelled in anger from where he hung, struggling harder not to slip off.

"Freyja would have wanted you to keep fighting after her death," it breathed. "And you, being the stubborn man you are, would have done so. I cannot afford to have a serpent attempting to stop me. Feel free to tell Freyja I said farewell. I didn't have the time while she bled out."

The false-Freyja allowed the Prince to fall to the ground as it turned to face Thor. A feral grin crossed its lips when it met the king's eyes.

"And now, what shall be a worthy death for the king of Asgard?"

Once more the scene dissipated and Freyja found herself in the crumbled remains of what must have once been Asgard. No buildings remained standing and the skies were cloaked in black clouds. Ash rained down from the heavens like fresh snow. She stood across from her double, who was gazing around with horrified silver eyes.

It turned in slow circles, a look of devastation dawning on its face. It glanced down at the dagger in its hand, blood dripping down the silver to splatter across the stone. A shudder went through it before the doppelganger fell to its knees. Freyja watched in surprise, unable to move, as tears ran down its face. It aligned the dagger at its chest.

"Miserere mei, Sapienti, quia peccavi," it whispered.

And it drove the knife home.

"Freyja!"

The moment Freyja felt a tight grip on her shoulders, she allowed her aura to flare out around in the form of a shield. A familiar voice cried out in surprise as whoever held her flew backwards. She leapt to her feet, eyes wide with anticipation of an attack.

"Freyja, love, it's me."

She turned to her assailant, realizing Loki was the one sprawling across the floor. Worry was etched into his face as he approached slowly.

"It's alright. Everything is fine."

Freyja took a moment to process everything as Loki continued to come closer.

"It was just a memory," he assured.

She shook her head, "No, it wasn't."

"What?"

She leapt from the bed, rushing for the armoire, "It wasn't a memory. Which should not be possible. No Vanir has ever experienced dreams."

"Perhaps being half Elf would-"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Not even halflings have dreams. Something is very wrong. Someone is attempting to force images into my mind."

"The murderer?" he asked, looking twice as worried.

"I would imagine," she muttered, tossing on a robe. "I need to see a Healer."

"Why would the murderer be attempting to plant visions in your mind?"

"He enjoys toying with me," she snapped. "The notes, Ottar's kidnapping, sending my Elderstahl, the mirror trick, he thinks this to be some grand game."

"Elderstahl?" Loki repeated. "Mirror trick? Freyja what are you speaking of?"

"The mirror!" she exclaimed, gesturing towards the adjoining room. "He caused himself to appear within it, mimicked me even. He finds it amusing. This isn't a serious matter to him. It's all a joke."

"You never spoke of a mirror."

"You're missing the point! Have you ever known anyone to break through my mental barriers?"

"No."

"Then this man has become infinitely more-"

"Freyja!" Loki yelled, hands on her shoulders.

She stopped midsentence, watching the fright in his bright green eyes. For an instant, she remembered how they looked as the life fled from their depths. It had been no more than an image, but it had seemed so real. That in itself scared her more than anything else.

"You were the one to tell me that the mind's defenses lower when asleep or unconscious," he said. "It is fully possible that the murderer was able to bypass your own due to the fact that you were at your most vulnerable. Now, you've barely had any sleep as it is and the hour is far too early. Come back to bed, please."

"Loki…"

"I'll protect you, but you need to trust me," he breathed, hands trailing down her arms to grasp her hands.

She hesitated for only a second before allowing him to lead her back to the bed. He pulled her close to him as they lay against the sheets, wrapping his arms around her tightly. She splayed her fingers across his bare chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid for all of us."

"I know. We're here, love, and we're safe. Everything will be fine in the end."

"I hope you're right."

Freyja walked through the streets of Asgard with Loki, Sif, Thor, and the Warriors Three, feeling happier than she had in a long time. Though Sif and the Three were still slightly aloof towards Loki, they attempted to be as civilized as possible. It was essentially the same civility Kenna and Freyja extended towards each other: only acknowledging him when it was unavoidable. And Fandral seemed to have left behind his interest in Freyja as he was the most loquacious of the lot. He was enjoying telling her of the pub brawl they had all found themselves in just before their quest to find Elderstahl.

"And what does Thor do," he chuckled, "but insult the wolf-man."

"His exact words were 'you dare lay your foul-smelling paw upon the son of Odin'," Volstagg continued, giving Freyja a playful nudge with his elbow.

"Of course," she laughed. "His manners were appalling then."

"Loki was the one who caused the wolf's drink to spill across his maw," Thor protested.

"I also was the one who allowed our escaped by setting fire to the entrance and giving you a hammer to defend yourself with," Loki pointed out.

"I still think you enchanted it."

"I told you I had no hand in your skill with that hammer. Heimdall only knows how you managed such a feat."

"And where were you during this mess?" Freyja asked, turning to face Sif.

Sif blinked in surprise, looking for an instant as if she wasn't listening, "I'm sorry?"

"The quest for Elderstahl," Freyja clarified. "You apparently weren't present."

"Oh, no. I was training with the Valkyries."

"Truly?"

Sif nodded, "Before Thor paid a visit and I decided my place was in Asgard."

"Ah, I remember that," Fandral exclaimed. "Hildie was a delight."

"Hildie?" half of the group repeated.

"Brunhilde!" Fandral replied, looking shocked at their confusion. "She finds me to be witty and handsome."

Freyja shared an amused grin with Sif as Thor and Loki began to double over laughing. Even Hogun was attempting to hide a small smile behind Volstagg's silent chuckles.

"What?" Fandral demanded.

"Fandral," Freyja started gently, "are you certain you didn't drunkenly mistake another woman for Brunhilde? That woman wouldn't so much as smile at a man, much less admit attraction to one."

"It could have been that lovely lady we caught you in the closet with," Loki suggested. "What was her name? Brokk?"

A new bout of laughter erupted as Fandral turned bright pink. He waved dismissively at them and muttered some incomprehensible excuses. Volstagg, who was the quickest to regain his composure, quickly caught sight of a bakery.

"Ah, just what is needed," he announced as he turned towards it. "I am famished."

"You're always famished," Thor laughed as he walked in after his companion.

Before Freyja could follow, Sif caught her arm.

"Might I have a word with you in private?" the shield-maiden asked.

"Of course. You need not ask, Sif."

Sif nodded and pulled her to a side alley beside the bakery. She glanced around quickly, searching for anyone who might overhear.

"Freyja, I need you to swear that you will not repeat a word of what I tell you to anyone."

"You have my word. I would never betray your trust."

Sif nodded, "After Jane's funeral ceremony, Thor was devastated. I loathed watching him in such pain despite not being overly fond of Jane. So I attempted to comfort him. Of course, he accepted my aid and he seemed to grow happier when we were together."

"I had noticed he was more content, but I do not see-"

"I'm expecting."

Freyja's jaw snapped shut instantly, her words forgotten with Sif's confession. Unable to completely process what her friend had just said, two words left her mouth unbidden.

"Expecting what?"

Sif gave Freyja a confused glance, her face plainly stating that she thought the Princess had lost her mind.

"Sorry," Freyja backtracked with a shake of her head. "I wasn't thinking properly. When did you become aware?"

"Just this morning," Sif replied. "The Healers say I'm four weeks along."

"That's wonderful, Sif!" Freyja exclaimed, embracing her friend. "You'll make a brilliant mother."

"I don't know…"

"Your child will have the most brave and caring mother in the Nine Realms. But I warn you, Thor very nearly spoilt Loki's children. He'll be worse with his own."

Sif gave a weak smile, "I'm unsure if I should tell him."

"Why ever not?"

"I do not want to force him into a marriage simply because I carry his child."

"Sif, if what you say of your relationship with Thor is true, then I have no doubt he would have asked for your hand in the near future. He has always been fond of you, fonder than any would be of their friend."

"You believe so?"

"I know so. And both Odin and Frigga adore you."

Sif sighed, "When should I tell him?"

"Whenever it feels best," Freyja answered with a shrug. "Just do so sooner rather than later."

Sif nodded, before smiling, "And what of you and Loki?"

"What of us?"

"Thor tells me you two plan to have a traditional Vaniric wedding. Any plans that reach further into the future?"

"Loki and I as parents?" she asked incredulously. "Loki was lied to his entire life and my father never expressed any outward emotion. Besides, Loki is an incurable trickster and I am a halfling. Could you imagine what our children would be?"

"The child of love and mischief? By the Yggdrasil, none of us would be safe," Sif exclaimed in mock horror.

"Yes and yours shall run through the palace, yelling 'For Asgard!'," Freyja laughed.

Both women fell into fits of laughter as they walked back towards the street and into the bakery. Their friends glanced up with raised eyebrows as they did.

"And just what are you two giggling about?" Fandral asked.

"It's better not to ask what women gossip of when not in earshot of men," Volstagg stage whispered in reply. "You do not want to know."

Hogun gave a consenting, "Hmm."

"Hungry?" Loki whispered as the others began an argument on the matter.

"No, not after you refused to move from the table until I ate an entire bowl of fruit."

"You weren't eating," he pointed out defensively.

"I wasn't hungry."

"Will you two stop bickering?" Thor demanded playfully. "You two sound married already."

"Will you stop nagging? You sound worse than Mother," Loki retorted the same time Freyja said, "Oh, stop your complaining."

"And this is what occurs when you attempt to argue with a married couple," Volstagg laughed. "They could be at each other's throats until you say a word against them. Then they both turn on you."

"These two are worse, though," Fandral remarked. "At least others don't break off into another language when they want to exclude the rest."

Freyja rolled her eyes as Loki proceeded to spout random excerpts of texts in the language of her people, knowing only she could tell he was simply messing with the warrior's head.

"It could be worse," Thor said with a smirk. "At least they do not act as love-stricken children would."

"Who's to say what they do alone?" Sif corrected. "Loki could be quite romantic behind closed doors."

"Why would you ever think that?" Loki replied, giving Freyja an unimpressed look.

"I see no reason you should address me when speaking to Sif," she noted, avoiding his silent accusation.

Before any of them could speak, one of the Einherjar came rushing through the door.

"Lady Princess," he called.

Freyja felt her blood run cold at his words. There were only two reasons one of the guards would seek her out, none of which were pleasant. She couldn't decide which choice she preferred him to announce.

"Lady Princess," he repeated before turning to glance at Thor and Loki. "My king, Prince Loki, forgive my interruption."

"What news have you brought?" Freyja asked, worry clear in her voice.

"We located Ottar."

"What? Where did you find him? Is he alright?" she demanded, standing up.

"He's dead."

She fell back into her chair, "The murderer."

"But Prince Freyr was found with him. He's gravely injured."

Freyja shot to her feet once more, "Where is he?"

"He's in the Healing Rooms, my lady."

"Thank you," she said to the Einherjar before turning to face the others. "I'm sorry, but I must leave."

"Would you like us to-"

"No," she said, cutting off Thor. "It would be for the best if as few of us go as possible."

Loki got to his feet, as well, "I should go, also."

Freyja nodded, "Alright. Come, then."

Not waiting for a reply, Freyja rushed out of the bakery with Loki at her side. She took no delay as she nearly ran to the palace. With Ottar dead and Freyr injured, she wasn't sure what concerned her more. Despite the fact that he was dead, she couldn't help but wonder where he had disappeared from the day before.

The servants within the palace leapt out of the way as Freyja and Loki made their way to the Healing Rooms. It seemed as though everyone was aware of what was occurring as even the Healers made space for the two. Freyr lay on the bed three cots down from the door, wincing as one of the Healers sealed a long cut across his torso with magic.

"Freyr," Freyja exclaimed as she went to his side. "What happened? Why were you with Ottar?"

"I…I don't remember," he answered slowly.

"He received a nasty blow to the head," the Healer said, turning to Freyja. "He's lucky not to have bled to death with all the wounds he received."

Grasping her brother's hand, Freyja took a moment to calm herself, "As difficult as it may be, Freyr, I need you to think. Is there anything you can remember on how you ended up with Ottar?"

"I remember speaking with Kenna and deciding to take a walk alone. It was on a trail in the woods where I can't quite recall…No, there was a noise. I heard a struggle. When I found the source of the noise – I don't know what happened after. All I remember is awakening to one of the Einherjar and seeing Ottar dead beside me."

"Perhaps the murderer heard you approaching and attacked you from behind?" Loki suggested. "He couldn't afford to leave a witness and so attempted to kill you, as well."

"What would have kept him from killing Freyr, then?" Freyja asked.

"The Einherjar could have scared him off…"

"This is a man who personally taunted me despite the fact that I could retaliate. I highly doubt that he has any fear of the Einherjar."

"Perhaps speaking with Kenna will shed light on the matter," Freyr suggested. "Anyone who was in the area may have noticed someone behaving suspiciously."

Freyja turned to Loki, "You'll have to speak with her as she won't say a word to me."

"You could check if the Einherjar saw anything while I see Kenna," he replied.

"Perhaps if you allow the Prince some time to rest, he will remember more," the Healer suggested.

Freyja smiled apologetically, "Yes, of course."

"Be careful, you two," Freyr said as the Healer ushered them away.

She nodded with a smile, hoping all would be fine. She didn't think the murderer would strike so soon after killing Ottar, but she couldn't be certain. She could be certain of nothing. While Thanos, when he had hunted her himself, had been predictable in his attempt at being random, the murderer was carefully eclectic. There was no pattern to follow. He killed whoever he thought would leave her vulnerable and did so at whatever location was most convenient at the time. His actions were precise and impossible to foresee. She wasn't sure if she preferred Thanos or his new puppet at the moment.

Luckily, as Loki walked out to search for Kenna, Freyja was able to simply turn to speak with the Einherjar who were standing in the doorway. Their conversation went from muttered to diminished as she approached, all of them turning their attention to her.

"Freyr is unable to recall what occurred prior to you discovering him," she explained. "Did any of you see someone else when you found my brother and Ottar? Even a glimpse of someone fleeing would be helpful."

They guards shared a few glances before all of them turned to look at the eldest of the group. It took her no more than a minute to recognize Ullar from the Vault.

He shook his head, "We saw no one else within the glade. It is possible we may have missed him while we were preoccupied. Forgive us, Lady Princess."

"There is nothing to forgive," she sighed. "It was a shot in the dark, either way. Will one of you at least show me to Ottar's body? Perhaps there is something I can glean from what was left behind."

Ullar nodded and gestured for her to follow him as he walked towards a corner separated from the room by thick curtains. He pulled back one of the drapes enough for her to walk through before following her in. She stifled a shocked gasp as she caught sight of her friend.

It wasn't the same as seeing the other bodies, where they had been virtually untouched. The only thing that had been tampered with had been there minds. Ottar was almost the exact opposite. He was cut, bruised, and bloody. Had he bore more than one cut across his face, she would not have recognized him. It looked as if he had been in a dreadful fight and, when she looked into what was left of his mind, it was barely frayed.

"He wasn't killed by mental means," she muttered.

"What?"

"Look at the state of him," she said, gesturing towards the corpse. "His mind is almost completely intact, as if someone attempted to destroy him but was unable to. The murderer was unable to break through his mental defenses, so he resorted to physical means. Do you know what this means?"

"Ottar struggled for his life?"

"That is true, but not what I meant. Mental destruction leaves no proof towards who the murderer was. It is the same as attempting to distinguish where in Midgard a pebble originated: possible but not likely to be accurate. Physical murder is akin to a painting. You always end up leaving your mark upon the victim."

"We can determine the murderer through Ottar's wounds?" Ullar asked, confusion clear in his voice.

"Yes," she answered, searching through Ottar's pockets.

She felt a faint rush of triumph as she pulled a scrap of parchment from his ragged coat. It was the same as the other's: crisp and clean except for a single rune. 'Tentigo' this one said, the more modern word for lust. Lust for her or for Aileth, she was unsure, but it left only one of the five offenses left.

Freyja froze as she realized what it meant. Murder was the last offense left, meaning that the only one closest to her, who was guilty of such a crime, was Loki. She turned to the Einherjar, mind racing.

"See if you can find anything that doesn't belong to Ottar. It doesn't matter how small so long as it doesn't connect to him," she ordered before walking through the curtain.

"Lady Princess, is something amiss?" he called after her.

"Yes," she muttered to herself. "There is."

Though she hadn't believed the murderer would kill two consecutively, it now made more sense to do so. With Ottar's corpse in such a state and Freyr unable to recall what occurred, it was obvious that she and Loki would separate to gain more information. Loki being on his own meant that there was a higher risk of the murderer finding him. She and he were very seldom apart, though not at all inseparable. Still, every moment apart meant another possibility for the killer to strike.

She would not, could not, risk Loki's life. His death would be her breaking point. And there was no saying what would happen then.