He awoke, rather unpleasantly, to a searing, blinding pain that made him cry out. He felt as if someone had torn his insides out, spit on his face, and then sewn him back together using wasabi and poison. While laughing at him. And then digging a shovel into his stomach and starting the whole process over.

It was unpleasant.

"That's right, darling," a voice cooed- cooed? Was he losing his mind? "Don't try to fight it, you'll only make it worse."

He couldn't stop panting, the pain so intense. His bones were being ripped from their sockets. He was being thrown into rosebushes. No. Geranium bushes. No-

"You," he croaked in accusation. It wasn't as threatening a voice as he normally could call up, what with his throat being dry and thick, his lips chapped and bleeding.

His vision was slowly coming back to him in patches, the world refocusing once more, making him feel just slightly less helpless.

He was chained to a rock. His back protested loudly.

How had he gotten here? It was all so blurry... The last thing he remembered was-

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to erupt, like a volcano- wanted to consume the world, such a crushing loss and sadness he felt.

Baldr.

But he couldn't cry. And he couldn't scream. He tried, but it just came out a wordless, silent roar. His throat couldn't take what he tried to make it do.

So, he thought sardonically. I cannot even mourn.

"Yes," the voice sighed. "Me." Agda appeared before him, petting at something over him-

Loki jerked in surprise, and the manacles on his wrists and legs bit deeper into his skin, the rock beneath him upbraiding his back.

But he couldn't help it. There was a vulture above him, it's beak bloody; it's eyes beady. With a sickening jolt, he glanced down awkwardly at his chest, and his horrified suspicions were immediately confirmed.

So this is my surgeon.

It was remarkably unconcerned with precision.

"Oh don't worry, darling," Agda continued with a cheerful smile as she saw his shock. "Asgeir will keep you company. I can't stay with you all the time, you know- I've got such a lot of work to do." She pouted thin lips, but it was short-lived, quickly morphing back into a smile. "But not to worry," she patted his cheek condescendingly. Loki snarled. He wanted to rip her fingers off and shove them down her throat. "It'll all be worth it in the end. And don't give me that look," she said sharply. "I'm doing this for you."

Even had Loki been able to drag his voice up, he would have been speechless at that. In what world could this be for his own good!? The woman was insane. He had suspected as much for years, but this was the final, cinching proof: she was batshit crazy.

Unfortunately for him, she was also an incredibly talented enchantress. He didn't know how she had done it, but she'd been fucking with his magic for a long time now- which was still in the fucking scepter and meant that he was... He shuddered with loathing.

He was completely at her mercy.

"Now then," she said briskly. "Just a few things before I have to be going: firstly, this is going to be a long-term arrangement, so buckle in and get comfortable. This brings me rather nicely to point B, which is that, thanks to this little beauty," She held up a solid silver collar, set with a glowing crystal at it's center, and then clapped it around his neck. "I'll be able to set the other puzzle pieces in motion while you get to where you need to be. In other words, darling, time is relative, and it will be going relatively faster for you than for me." She laughed delightedly, patting her hair vainly. "It's such fun to play with time, darling- you've got to try it sometime, really."

She clapped her hands. "But I think that's it, actually. Just try and lose yourself to it, darling, I assure you- it'll be better that way. And I want you to know-" she leaned down over him so they were eye to eye. Loki stared at her in an overwhelming surge of shock, anger, and betrayal- they may have had a somewhat unfriendly relationship, but he would never have expected this from her.

She looked down at him sympathetically. "I wish there was another way," she said regretfully- kissing his forehead, of all things. "But there's just not. And believe me," she laughed bitterly, sobering. "I'd know. I promise you, someday you'll thank me."

Loki's lips curled painfully into a snarl, so chapped that they bled, and it dripped into his mouth. He reveled in the tanginess of it as it fed the beast of fury that clawed it's way through him, desperate to be let out, to rip out her throat, to rip out everyone's throats...

"Someday," he said laboriously, the words dragged out of his raw throat by sheer force of will and still only managing to be a croaky whisper, "I will kill you."

"Well," she said, drawing back as if he had slapped her, her face crumpling with hurt. And were those tears in her eyes? "If you're going to be rude about it, then I'm leaving."

"Do you hear me?" He hissed furiously. "I will kill you," he vowed.

"Oh, please," Agda said, brushing his threat- and the look of hurt- off without concern. The tears vanished as if they had never been, her eyes hardening. "I've been around for- well, I don't like to spread my age all over town but let's just say- a while. And if you hadn't noticed, I'm not that loveable. If you think people haven't tried to kill me before, you'd be a fool. But I'm still around. Because I'm smart. And I'm powerful," She exaggerated each point by sending a bolt of power at his body, and he wreathed under the pain of it, the rocks scraping his back raw. "And you," she curled her lip, one sharp brow raised, unimpressed. "You are a pup yet. Forgive me if I don't quake with fear."

Oh but she should. Before he was done with her she would beg his forgiveness a thousand times over. She would crawl over glass to try and win him over, and he would only-

"Now then," she said brightly, her anger of the previous moment completely dissipated. "I'll be back- hmm. Well, I don't know when you'll be seeing me, but I'll be seeing you in a few hours. Try not to worry." She patted his cheek affectionately and then was gone.

And he was left to a torment that never ceased.

If his insides were not being torn from his chest then they were regrowing, the process as painful as if he had replaced his blood with acid and then said to hell with it, and set the whole thing on fire.

It could get no worse.

"Darcy,"Jane said, rolling her eyes at her old friend's thickness. "He obviously likes you. And to be honest, I can't even remember the last time you had a date."

Darcy's mouth dropped open. "He does not like me," she exclaimed. What a thing to say! Coulson? Like Darcy? It was absurd! It was- "Actually," she said, now that she thought about it for two seconds. "That does make a lot of sense."

It had been three months since she and Ellie had gone to SHIELD for Ellie's first appointment, and Coulson was always there to greet them at the door, always sat in a chair in the corner during sessions, behind the door. Making notes and not really contributing anything.

He would walk them back out when the session was over, making smalltalk as they walked. He was always very polite, very nice. Very- Darcy frowned, trying to think of the right word, but she just kept coming back to nice. Because he was. Very.

But it was more than that. He was so interested in their lives- and not just Ellie's, or Nathan's, which would have made sense because of his joint interest with SHIELD in the matter. But he was also interested in her. What she liked. How her day had been. Nothing out of the ordinary- but there was something in his way of asking that made her feel like he really cared about the answers, more than it would suggest from someone making smalltalk. And the way that he looked at her sometimes...

Frankly, Darcy was a bit embarrassed that it had taken Jane pointing it out to her for her to notice that yeah, maybe he did like her. Had it really been so long since she'd gone out on a date?

"Wait a minute!" She cried, remembering all of a sudden. Well, no wonder! Jesus. "I'm married," she reminded Jane.

"Oh," Jane said, blinking. "Right. I forgot about that." She frowned. "Well- and where is this husband of yours, anyways!? He hasn't been around for years, Darce! I'm pretty sure that counts as being separated. So there's nothing, really, to stop you from dating after all."

"Just adultery," Darcy grumbled, and Jane shot her A Look. "Well, fine," she allowed. "But...the kids! I've got the kids. How can I go out on a date with my kids? Honestly, Jane- use your head." She flicked her friend's forehead.

Jane made a face and batted her arm away, rolling her eyes. "Da-arcy," she said. "Obviously you wouldn't take your kids on a date with you. That's why people use babysitters. Where is your head today, gurl? Babysitters have been around since the dawn of time."

Darcy huffed, trying to salvage her argument. She didn't know why she was being so horrendously literal-minded. It wasn't like Jane didn't have a good point. But...she couldn't help herself.

"Well, in that case it would be a pretty horrendous idea for me to use one then, wouldn't it? I mean, if they're that old they'd probably die while I was out dating and then my kids would be alone and the house would burn down and all I'd be left with would be memories. All alone. In the moonlight. All-"

"Okay, okay!" Jane said, laughing. "Calm down, Grizzelda. If you don't want to go on a date with Coulson, then don't. I'm just saying- it might be nice to get out there. Live a little." She punched Darcy's shoulder playfully. "You've been pretty much a mom non-stop for the past few years. It could be good for you to remember that you're a woman, too."

Darcy made a face. "Well, it would be nice to have some sex-"

"Ah!" Jane cried, blushing fiercely. "Time out!"

Darcy grinned, relishing Jane's discomfiture. "You know, just some of that good ol' down 'n dirty-"

"No! No! Enough! Ack! That's not exactly what I meant!"

Darcy laughed. Janey was a silly little thing. She was the most rational person you could possibly find, until you mentioned sex, and then she was a blushing, stammering prude. You'd almost think she must be a virgin, until you saw the way she and Thor looked at each other.

It was fun to tease her.

"In all seriousness though, I just-" Darcy curled her upper lip in distaste. "I just don't want to date anyone. I probably would date someone, except that literally no one I've met appeals to me. Like, at all. Honestly, I wish I could remember their father, because it would be nice to know what my type is. At the moment it seems to be non-existent." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. It was getting long again, she noted absently. Like one of the Wild Things. Well, okay, perhaps not. But she should probably get it cut.

Jane squeezed her hand sympathetically. "I know," she said. "Your whole marriage thing is weird."

"Ugh. Tell me about it," Darcy huffed. "Who even has a husband they don't remember marrying or anything about them? Not to mention, had two kids with? Leave it to me to be the trailblazer for that one." She frowned at a sudden thought. "What if it was one of those trauma-induced memory things?"

Jane raised her brows skeptically at this. "You would have told me."

"Well, that's true," Darcy admitted, amused to find herself a little relieved. "Good lord though, just imagine. Me, being with someone...dangerous, or what have you." She laughed.

Jane smiled. "It is rather difficult to fathom."

"Right!? I'm reckless- not crazy."

Agony.

"Oh, the poor boy." The voice he hated so much. Helplessness made him crazed. "The expression on your face, darling. What's that Midgardian painting? 'The Scream'? I do believe you're in danger of violating it's copy-write." A pause. "Or whatever the physical version of that is."

Time went on.

The pain went on.

He'd thought it couldn't get worse, but then it had: Darcy died. In the field... The rain had fallen, and he had clutched her limp body to him, his limbs stiff with shock.

"Not supposed to be like this," he rasped brokenly shaking her, trying to will her to just not be dead. Anything but dead.

The sense of failure was crushing. She'd been his to protect, and like everything else he'd done...

I've failed.

Nathan was dead already. Had been for a while now, though it felt like just yesterday.

His son and his...

His heart shattered into a million pieces and he left them. If he could reach the pieces he would pick one up and drag it across his throat in grateful relief.

Grief and fury were relentless, and pain was an enthusiastic motivator. He had no shortage of of them.

"One would almost feel sorry for him," the woman. The little bitch. He flailed in his chains, mercilessly ignoring the fresh wounds along his back that opened up.

He snarled. He roared at her. Threatened her.

Just what he said, he had no idea.

She was the reason Darcy and Nathan had died. If Loki had been able to protect them...but he was here! Chained to this fucking rock like a fatesdamned dog. He had failed them because of her. He would rip out her spine when he got free. He would rip out her spine and laugh.

And on it went.

And on.

Sometimes his mind would blank, unable to fathom the pain his body and mind were facing. That was good. He couldn't think of Darcy and Nathan then. But they never lasted. His head was so fuzzy all the time. So fuzzy and confusing. Odin had beat him- why had Loki let him? Odin had sewn his mouth shut to teach him a lesson. And Thor...Thor had stood back and let him. He'd as good as done it himself. Frigga had tried to smother him when he was a baby. Everyone knew it.

His mind was so fuzzy.

The Betrayer talked to him often, but it was like a fly buzzing around the room. Little snippets he caught only. She laughed at him sometimes. She laughed sometimes and said, "There there." And he could only snarl and want to vomit. But there was nothing to wretch up. He ate nothing. He drank nothing. She did not offer. Ages went by and his stomach shrunk so small that maybe it had devoured itself.

Immortality was no blessing.

And all the while, him thinking why? Why would she do this? Why would she do this? He had done nothing to her.

All that kept him from the wasteland of insanity were his plans of revenge. He would burn them all and the world would die as he was dying. As he had already died. As the ones he loved had died.

"Good afternoon, Darcy." Coulson smiled pleasantly, and Darcy narrowed her eyes at him.

"Right," she said. So he had a crush on her then. Great. She didn't know what to do with that knowledge. At all.

"Is something wrong?" His brow wrinkled and Darcy realized that she had in no way been playing it cool.

"Just the fact that Lady Gaga stole my poker face." Wtf? She thought. Her mouth was a source of constant surprise.

"Hmm?"

"And now...cuz I...can't...read it- forget it," she smiled wryly, wishing her mouth would just please for once do as she wanted it to. "Anyways-"

"Me too!" Ellie interrupted, twirling Darcy's hand, and Coulson laughed.

"Hello, missy," he said. "We were saving the best for last."

Ellie smiled, the gap where she'd lost one of her front teeth last week displayed adorably. "That's me." She grinned, and Darcy tweaked her braid.

"No ego on this one. She's a chip off the ol' block."

Coulson smiled at Darcy and Darcy found herself examining his face, Jane's words sharp in her mind. It was a nice face. Perhaps not handsome, but pleasing. Warm, and trustworthy. Which was ironic, because he worked for a secret organization and could and probably would lie convincingly to Darcy in a heartbeat if he had to

Yet despite that, he was a good man. The spark just wasn't there. She thought about kissing him and wanted to throw up.

She sighed. How convenient it would be if she could love him. The kids already did.

"Mommy, come on," Ellie said, dragging her impatiently down the hall. "I wanna show doc my new purse." A pink poodle-shaped monstrosity that Ellie had fallen in love with at the mall.

Ellie loved Dr. Whitman. They'd been having bi-weekly appointments for three months now, and while they hadn't learned that much, Darcy had to admit that she felt very differently about SHIELD now then she had at the start. Everyone had been nothing but kind and considerate. There had been no demands, no pushiness, nothing that made her uncomfortable.

They'd learned a bit more about Ellie, but many mysteries yet remained.

Darcy had shared what Thor had told her about Frost Giants, and Dr. Whitman had thanked her for it. "It goes along with a lot of what I would have surmised," she'd said. "Ellie shows remarkable talent for one so young- though this could stem from any number of factors. It really is a shame that we know so little about her species as a whole, because it would make everything a lot more clear right now."

Darcy barely refrained from rolling her eyes, bristling at the term 'species'. Instead, she managed to keep the sarcasm to a minimum when she said, "Well, that's why we're here, right? Like Frickin' Frost Giant Pioneers."

Dr. Whitman smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. I know the terminology leaves much to be desired. I'm just not sure what to call her, frankly. She is quite the anomaly."

"She's a three year old girl," Darcy said firmly.

"Of course." Dr. Whitman paused. "I just mean that perhaps their powers go through something of a growth spurt at a certain age before leveling out," Whitman explained. "Or if perhaps something triggered them to accelerate development. It's only recently that she's started showing symptoms, correct?"

Darcy frowned. "Symptoms?"

"You know- signs. With the cold hands, the red eyes..."

Darcy pursed her lips. "Yeah, just in the past couple months." She shrugged. "Well, and also when she was a baby, but other than that-"

"When she was a baby?" Whitman asked, a frown creasing her fine brows. "What is this? What did she do as a baby?"

Oh. Oops. They'd never really gotten to that. "Well, she was born blue," Darcy said. "A pale blue, with red eyes. But she lost those after a few days."

"Fascinating," Whitman said, her blue eyes huge, and intrigued. "Like an adaptation skill. Incredible. Absolutely incredible. Is that all?"

"No. She- her breath was noticeably...frosty? When she was young. But, again- that went away after the first few weeks. And then when I was pregnant with her- my body temperature went down dramatically." She frowned remembering. "I couldn't even touch Nathan without gloves on or his skin would frost over a little, toward the end. It was frustrating as hell."

Dr. Whitman nodded, eyes bright with interest.

So why did Darcy get the feeling that Whitman had already known this?

"The fetus communicated with, and perhaps even hijacked it's host's body to make it's growth feasible." She chewed this over rapturously.

"Yeesh," Darcy said testily, a bit creeped out by the clinicality of her phrasing. "Great way of putting it, doc. Really warms this host's heart."

Dr. Whitman had smiled, and returned to the clipboard she'd been making notes on as Darcy spoke, reading over it. "Still, we don't know what's made her powers come back now. I would have thought it would be more natural for them to make an appearance along with puberty, when the body's chemicals are all naturally going crazy, but that's not the case. Which makes me think that it's more likely that it's a reaction to some other outside stimuli. But you know her best- what are your thoughts?"

"Well, I don't know. I mean, nothing's really happened." Darcy tried to think about if there was an event that had recently happened, but... "Everything's been pretty normal. As far as I know, this just came out of the blue." She groaned. "Pun painfully not intended."

"Hmm." Whitman chewed her pencil thoughtfully. "She's quite an intriguing case."

Child, Darcy thought with annoyance. She's a child, not a fucking case.

"So as far as we know, her abilities right now are- and her powers seems fascinatingly emotionally-centered- that she can channel extreme low temperatures through her hands and use those on both animate and inanimate things alike, to impressive effect. Her eyes color red when angered. Her skin-" she paused. "Have you ever seen it turn blue again? Since the incident here, I mean. Of course."

Darcy shook her head. "Never."

Whitman nodded, returning to the clipboard again. "Her breath can fog, and she can withstand- and even be comfortable in- much lower temperatures than the average person. Those are the physical characteristics- though she seems not to be any faster or stronger than others her age. Apart from that, she is quite remarkable in her own right. For one so young she has an incredible awareness both of self and others that is much more frequently seen in those at least ten years her senior. Not only that, but her reasoning and empathetical tendencies are off the charts. Those are likely more thanks to genes and herself as an individual than from being part Frost Giant, though." She paused, looking a little uncomfortable. "Now, I've heard that the father isn't really in the picture, but it would be so helpful if- well. Do you know anything about him?"

Darcy snorted. So much for privacy. Thanks Coulson. She sighed. "No, unfortunately I don't."

"Not even a physical appearance?" Whitman asked hopefully.

"Nope," Darcy said. It irritated her to no end.

"Ah well. For next week, I'd like to try how she reacts to more unusual temperature-based situations. We'll see you at the regular time?"

Darcy had nodded wearily. "We'll be here." They had to be. She had to find out how she could help her little girl.

Now, she looked at Coulson thoughtfully as he opened the door to Dr. Whitman's room for them.

"Much obliged," she said, affecting a slight Southern drawl and tipping an invisible cowboy hat at him.

"Anything for you ladies," he smiled back.

What's wrong with me? Darcy wondered. He would be a good man to love. She should...do something about it one of these days. Could you do that? Could you just...choose to make yourself fall in love?

She pursed her lips. Perhaps she should try.

Something was different. Loki tried to concentrate on what it was, but his brain was so hard to discipline. He didn't know how long it took for him to realize what it was: that the pain had diminished.

How...novel.

His nemesis was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear it's talons scrabbling at the rocks around him. He wondered why it never just flew off- but maybe the waves he heard were part of a body too large for it to cross. Then again- why would it leave it's never-ending supply of food? he thought blackly.

For the first time in a very, very long time he could think clearly. He took stock of his situation: his back was mercilessly shredded from the jagged rocks he was chained over. His legs and arms were raw and bleeding from the cuffs, the skin lacerated and wet, presumably with blood. He could not actually see them. His stomach was a bloody mess, but it did not feel like the flesh was gaping open. The bird had not been feeding for a while then, if his skin had grown back.

As he was checking his wrists, he realized with shock that the metal bands chaining him to the rock were so beaten and worn from constantly being scraped against jagged rock, and his wrists had actually shrunken to the point that they were loose within the cuffs. And wet with blood...

He wriggled them testingly, a traitorous leap of hope coursing through him. Sucking in a breath at how raw they were he stilled. But only for a moment. Then he gritted his teeth and tried again.

Tears of pain that he could not deny were streaming down his face, but his wrists were free. He stared at them in wonder as he slowly, achingly sat up for the first time in what felt like years.

He felt shrunken and small and beaten. He was a god, dammit! Or half of one, anyways, though that did not bear thinking of. Fates take it- he was not a lab rat!

He'd been chained on a coarsely sanded patch of isle, the rock that had been his bed a jagged slab of rough gray incongruously placed at it's center like some sick altar. On every side waves rushed in and slapped at the sides of the tiny isle. It was maybe twelve square feet in total. And he'd been there for the fates only knew how long...

He stared at the rock in cold fury, his entire body aching; his legs weak from disuse so that he had stumbled and fallen to the sand when he tried to rise. Never would he allow himself to be chained like that again. To know such helplessness. Better to be dead.

Before even realizing his intent, he had pulverized the rock to rubble. Gusting winds took most of it to sea, whipping his hair about him so that it lashed his face.

The vulture glared at him from the foot of the isle. It's beak was stained red after so long feasting of his flesh. Loki regarded it coldly. Mercilessly.

His magic roiled about him, as if unleashed by the intensity of his fury, though at the back of his mind, Loki knew there had to be another reason. But it felt so good. He had not felt it for an age, and he reveled in it- throwing his head back to the power as it coursed through him, the wild energy of the sea crashing all around; the whipping winds; the salt that stung his cheeks. Though his body was weak, he felt stronger than he had in a long time.

His eyes narrowed on the vulture. It regarded him with vicious eyes but made no move to try and get away. And where would it go, anyways? It's body was too heavy to fly off. In a way it was as much a prisoner here as Loki had been. But it had hurt him. It had torn his flesh apart again and again. It had to answer for that.

It did.

It's body dropped heavily into the sea with a splash, and the waves soon dragged it below and out of sight. Loki watched it sink dispassionately. It did little to ease the fury inside him. There was still so much to put right.

His fury had cooled, solidifying. Not the raging, imprecise fire of before, but now a dangerous, focused winter of intent.

"Little fox, little fox," he muttered sang softly to himself with a sneer. " I will put you in a box." She would pay for what she'd done. Not just to him, but to Darcy and Nathan as well. Especially for them.

But at the moment she was beyond his reach. He could not scry for her, having no personal affects of hers in his possession. He would have to find her using the more traditional means.

He was not worried though. Failure was not an option.

Instead, he focused on where he was as he flashed to the shore. It was a desolate place. The shore was rocky and stretched on for miles on end with no hint of greenery or change. The only opposition to it was the frigid ocean he'd just crossed. Nilfheim. It must be.

He doubted Agda would stay on this plane except to check on him. He reached for his tracing powers and traced to Asgard. The familiar rush of magic was soothing, doing a little to calm his frayed nerves.

He would have his revenge, and so, so much more than that. There was much he could do alone, but...not enough. It could never be enough.

Loki was forced to seek help from the Norns. He had tried tracking her down on his own for several weeks, but it was as if she had never existed. No one had ever heard of her, let alone seen her.

The Norns dwelt in a vast cave at the base of Yggdrasil's roots. Loki warily noted the dragon, Nidghar, gnawing on them, but the dragon was thoroughly engaged and so it was the three women at it's center that held Loki's attention.

They watched him hungrily, and Loki gave a shudder of unease. They were eerie, like something out of a fairytale gone wrong. The cave smelled of dirt and burned flesh. Loki noted with disgust the acid that dripped from Yggdrasil's branches to the cave floor.

"Here comes trouble," one of them giggled to the other. And Loki did shudder then. Their giggling was the creepiest thing he'd ever heard. The one with dulled eyes somehow gave him a once over. "Damn, boy. Let me see you one-two step."

Loki quirked an eyebrow at them. "I've come for help," he said, and his voice rang strangely in the caverns. It seemed to bounce back and forth against the walls, making him hold back a wince at the word: help, help, help, help. He found his fists clenching that even now with his magic pulsing through his veins as if it had never left him, he was in some ways as powerless as ever.

The tallest one gave him a hollow grin. "All alone though, aren't you? Where's the little kiddies?"

"Enough," he snarled. "I am here to look for someone- nothing more. Can you help me? Her name is Agda, and she is an enchantress of-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know." The blind one. She turned to the taller one. "Why does everyone always want to tell us why they're here? We know all. Talk about a waste of time. You want- what did you call her? Agda?" She nudged the willowy one sharply with a bony elbow. "This kid, eh? Not exactly up to date."

The willowy one yanked her ear in retaliation. "Stop doing that!"

Not up to date?

"Oh hush up, loony-bins. Anyways, how much do you wanna know, Mr. I've Abandoned My People In Their Hour of Need?"

Loki frowned. "My people?" He scoffed. "Hardly." And as for hour of need, that was no doubt an over-dramatacism. These Norns seemed to have a penchant for it.

"Do you know where she is or don't you?" Loki had easily accepted that his need for vengeance had turned to obsession. He really didn't have a problem with that. It wasn't like there was anything else in his life worth pursuing.

The Norns all smiled at this, their crooked, rotting teeth hideously displayed. "What sacrifice are you prepared to make to get this information?"

Loki had thought about this. The Norns were well known for the things they exacted in exchange for information.

"I offer you my most prized possession," he said gravely. "My-

"Give us the pretties!" The willowy one interjected, clapping her hands ecstatically, her eyes dreamy. "So lovely...all that innocence. Mmm. Yummy."

Loki frowned. What?

"Your memories," the blind one said, licking her lips. "Of your son and your wife. We want them."

Loki jerked at their mention, the darkness rising swiftly within him. They dared mention them to him?

The tall one nearly quivered with excitement. "Dead girls and dead boys," she sang dreamily, fisting her ratty hair. "dead things make good toys."The blind one slapped her cheek and she shrieked. "What was that one for!?"

"Keep your head in the game, stupid."

Loki stared at them, deep in thought.

No! a part of him cried. Perhaps his heart. How could he possibly let them go? They were everything to him. Even drowning in this ocean of grief was better than the alternative. To not know of them!? Unspeakable! And yet... what was the alternative? Take away the ocean, and he need not be drowning. He would still have his vengeance against Agda. He would have a purpose. Perhaps he would even be better off.

"You have a deal."

They grinned.

"So what is this thing?" Darcy examined the contraption Jane had been bent over when she'd arrived for lunch. It was a small mass of wires and intricate metal parts that Darcy probably would have just thrown away if she'd seen lying on the floor at her house.

"Well- in theory- it's an Einstein-Rosen Bridge. It could teleport an object from one location to another. It's not ready though- I've been working on this off and on for the past five years, but it's...got a ways to go."

"Huh. That's too bad. You could probably make a lot of money selling something like that to construction companies."

Jane smiled. "Um...yeah. Okay."

Now Darcy grinned. "Yessss- the sweet sound of someone humoring me. How I live for moments such as this." Jane shook her head with amusement, still tinkering over the wires. "But enough about me- to the cafeteria! I'm actually not hungry, so I'm just gonna watch you eat and talk at you. But let's go!"

Jane laughed. "Alright, alright. Let me just turn this thing 'off' and we can get on out there."

"What!? This thing is on?" Darcy said in mock anxiety. She tapped it's indifferent wiry-metal nose. "Boop. Oh no- I'm meltiiiiiiiiing...what is happen?"

She wasn't melting. That had just been a bit of fun. But something was happening. "Janey?"

Jane was just as shocked as Darcy. "This- I don't- this is impossible! It shouldn't be able to do this!"

The bridge thing was giving off an eerie blue-white light and surrounding Darcy in it, and suddenly Jane was gone and Darcy was tumbling through a world of blue-white light and congratulating herself on the fact that she hadn't eaten because otherwise it would surely have been a somewhat messier trip.