AN: Thank you so much for the amazing reviews and support! I can't thank you all enough for reading and enjoying the story! I always appreciate hearing from you guys!

Here is the next chapter! Certainly more Loki, though not in the way we have been seeing him. The powers of the Time Gem are a mysterious thing.

So please enjoy! I always appreciate the feedback!


Chapter 19: A Time Gone By


Wrapping a jacket around her frail body, Kate shivered in the chill of the New York night. All around her, she could see the glitter of holiday decorations being turned off for the night. It was late—later than the woman liked being out of her apartment—but when she had returned home she had realized her mistake.

Though Bruce had told her a number of times, she had still managed to forget to lock the small gem in lead. All day the pretty stone had been causing them trouble—and she didn't want to have the other inhabitants of Stark Tower suffer the same fate.

Picking up her pace, her brown eyes looked around at the lonely streets around her. She could still hear the commotion of the city, with sirens and people yelling in the background, but everything around her still felt uncomfortably still. In the distance she could see the bright flickering of Stark's name, and was grateful that her journey was nearly over.

But as she continued on, she noticed that the streets had become quieter. Now, not even the sounds of the city permeated the stillness of her surroundings. Breathing deeply, Kate could see the heat of her breath leave her shivering lips. All around her was an eerie fog…particularly atypical weather for December in New York.

And then she saw black.


Thor let out a small squeak of pain as a horrible burning sensation ran through his leg. To his left, he could see the concerned green eyes of his brother as he helped him walk down the sparkling rainbow bridge. With each step, Thor could feel the pain in his leg getting more intense, now unable to put any pressure on the bum appendage.

"This is all your fault." Thor hissed, holding onto his brother tighter, "We should have never gone to the Dwarves."

Casting his sights to Loki again, Thor could feel his teeth clenching as The God of Mischief flashed him a playful smile.

"Brother, if you hadn't mistaken that dwarf man for a woman…" he explained with a laugh, "We could have avoided this whole mess."

Groaning, Thor could see the palace far in the distance and wondered if it would be easier to punch the stupid grin off of Loki's face and crawl back. It was Loki who had gotten them in this situation, anyway. It seemed that whenever he went on a quest with his brother, it was he who ended up getting hurt. His brother always ended up unscathed and with a tale to tell. Loki's skill with words always spared him injury.

"No, we should have never sought the dwarves to craft mother a present." Thor spat, "Flowers for her birthday would have sufficed."

Clenching his teeth tighter, Thor let out a painful gasp as Loki tried to stop him from falling over.

"My apologies, Thor." Loki sighed, "I fear that mother will be most displeased with this. What is it, the second time you've broken something this month?"

Letting out another groan, Thor realized his brother was right; the prospect of having to sit in the healing room with his mother scolding him was an unpleasant thought. When they returned, there would be another painful three days of healing and magic. He hated keeping still, and the idea of missing his mother's feast because of this only angered him further.

"Funny enough," Thor began sternly, "I broke bones both times on misadventures with you."

Loki just laughed at this.

"Don't get too serious now, Thor." He warned, "You will miss these days when we are married with wives and boring."

Thor just narrowed his eyes at his brother's mischievous green.

"I wonder if Lady Sif will visit you in the healing chambers?"

Feeling the heat rise in his face, Thor weighed the pros and cons of crawling back to the palace again. All around him, he could hear his brother's insolent teasing and laughter. He had thought that Loki was too old to be acting like a child, but he was wrong. Never before had the fantasy of punching him in the face been so tempting. In the end, however, he knew Lady Eir would scream at them for coming home with a broken leg and nose.

"I hate you." Thor decided, "If I wasn't currently incapacitated…"

"Oh please." Loki smiled, interrupting him, "You would be lost without me, brother."

Opening his blue eyes quickly, Thor could feel an unbearable sadness wash over him. All around him, the sparking Bifrost had been replaced with the bed he now slept on. The colorful skies of Asgard were replaced with the white of one of Stark's guest rooms. Though he thought it was a dream, he could still feel a faint throbbing pain in his leg—he could still hear Loki's laughter. There had been something uncomfortably real about everything.

It was unsettling.

But what he was left with—far more troublesome than pain in his leg-was a reminder of the brother he used to have. The smiles and the jokes of old were replaced with bitter scowls and screams. The adventures they used to share were replaced with wars they now fought against each other. In the wake of the memory, Thor was left feeling as though he lost his best friend.

And he desperately wanted him back.

"Is everything ok?"

Turning towards the stirring Jane, Thor let out a sigh. He hardly ever dreamt, and if he did they were never so real. He could still feel the pressure of his brother's hands holding him up. He could still smell the distinct scent of Asgard. It had been a seemingly unimportant memory—a seemingly unimportant retreat to the past. But seeing it now—hearing the horrid truth in his brother's playful words—meant so much more. Giving Jane a small smile, the God of Thunder lied:

"Yes, of course."


Loki squinted his eyes as the bright morning sunlight assaulted his senses. Walking around the vast land of the palace, he could smell the wonderful scent of a morning shower, and still see the sparkling glitter of the water droplets on the grass. He had been tasked with finding his brother who—for the last hour—had avoided his eye. Though it was a beautiful day, Odin had insisted the three of them spend it indoors discussing politics and Thor, true to form, had vanished.

Turning the corner, Loki was met with one of their many gardens. The palace was surrounded by many of them, each filled with some of the most spectacular plants in the realms. They were a peaceful place—a place he often found himself going to escape the inevitable stress that came with being royalty—and he knew Thor would tease him for centuries if he knew his fancy for them.

"Loki!"

Looking around, a smile found its way to the prince's features as his eyes were met with a familiar gold. Hidden within the gardens was a slender woman whose long dark hair was a stark contrast to the brilliant colored flowers around her. Feeling the heat in his face rise, he watched as she picked up her dress and walked over to him—her small muddied feet leaving a tiny trail behind her.

"My Lord, what a surprise!" she beamed, "I have not seen you in some time."

Loki couldn't help but smile at her.

"A thousand apologies, Milady." He replied smoothly, "Father has been keeping Thor and I terribly busy. I have very much missed spending time with you."

With his words, the prince watched in satisfaction as a bright crimson hue was painted against her fair features. He noticed that she bit her lip nervously, before insisting that he come keep her company while she worked in the gardens. He could tell her once euphoric voice was filled now with a hesitation—her stunning eyes avoiding his.

Following the Goddess towards her place of work, he took note of all the small vials she had laid out against the beautiful rockwork of the garden. Sitting down, he watched as she picked up her dress again and walked barefoot into the garden.

"Forgive me, Eir." He started, looking over the vials, "But what are you doing, exactly?"

The prince could hear a small laugh from behind the leaves.

"Harvesting for new medicine, of course." She explained matter-of-factly, "How else do you think healing happens?"

Picking up one of the bottles, he sniffed the contents and gagged

"I thought magic as well." Loki offered, "Tis more effective. Less volatile."

With that, he smiled as she walked out of the garden and placed a number of leaves in a small jar. Taking a moment to rest before returning to her job, she sent the prince an amused look.

"You know well magic is costly." She countered, "Besides, I quite like these gardens."

Loki felt his breath catch in his throat as she sat next to him. He could smell the beautiful scent of flowers on her, and see the sunlight scattering off of her eyes in a breathtaking way. Closing his eyes, he tried to maintain his composure as she began to speak.

"Tis Yarrow" she explained, placing a small leaf in his hand, "For wounds."

His eyes watched as she placed a beautiful purple and white flower in his palm. For a second, he could feel her fingertips brush his skin causing his heart to skip.

"For sleep." She smiled, "Fascinating, yes?"

Before he could think, she was back in the garden. Gripping the small flowers in his hand, Loki let out another frustrated sigh. This was torture of the worst kind, he was sure. They had been dancing this dance for too long—he would be lying if he thought they were friends—they weren't.

They both knew it.

"I have some others, too." She explained from behind a flower, "In the healing chambers, I cultivate some fairly unique ones from Alfheim and Jotunheim."

Before he could answer her, a familiar voice called out.

"Jotunheim?" Thor bellowed, "Lady Eir, have I ever told you of my father's glorious battle with the Frost Giants?"

Not waiting for her to answer, Loki groaned as Thor came over and sat down next to him. His brother looked as though he had been training most of the morning, keeping himself busy and away from Odin's watchful eyes. With Thor now here, Loki knew he didn't have an excuse to avoid the palace much longer.

"Twas when I was a child still, but my father led a valiant force against the Jotuns. Easily, by his own hand, he killed a million!"

To the younger prince's amusement, Thor was met only by a feminine laugh from within the gardens.

"My Lord, forgive me." Eir snickered, "But I know well there are not that many giants."

"Well of course, Milady." Loki smirked towards his brother, "Tis only so because Odin slayed a million of them."

Green eyes watched as Thor stood up with a frown on his face.

"You are no fun." Thor decided, "Brother, I suppose we best stop avoiding father. I will see you soon."

Watching Thor sulk off towards the palace, Loki knew his brother was right. Looking towards the woman in the flowers, he gave her a disappointed look.

"Many apologies, Lady Eir." He offered, "I know not how many more times my brother will insist on retelling tales of such monsters."

To his surprise, she just shook her head as she joined him once more. He could see her concentrating as she picked a new vial to place some vibrant flowers in before lifting her eyes towards his.

"I do not think they are monsters." She remarked, closing one of the vials tightly, "Your brother greatly exaggerates."

This time, Loki couldn't help but laugh at her blatant naivety.

"You, Eir, have apparently never been to Jotunheim." He smiled, admiring her for a moment, "Not surprising, really. Tis a dangerous place for a woman."

This time, the woman just narrowed her eyes at him. Though he couldn't explain it, disappointment rushed through his body in seeing her obvious disagreement with his words.

"But I most certainly have." She corrected, sitting next to him again, "In my youth, your mother insisted I learn healing arts from different realms—especially Jotunheim. Though I knew not the reason then…"

He noticed that she paused a moment with hesitation evident in her voice.

"I understand now."

Rolling his eyes at her, he shook his head.

"Forgive me, Eir, but I have a hard time believing that group of barbarians could have taught you anything." He argued, "You are far too clever for them."

The woman sitting next to him just looked at her hands for a moment, avoiding his gaze. He couldn't understand what she was so hesitant about.

"I learned quite lot, Loki." She insisted, "Jotun anatomy and physiology is quite fascinating to me. Did you know they differ from Asgardians quite a bit? Anatomically, their visceral organs are inversed. Amazing, really."

The prince could notice that she seemed to light up when she spoke of medicine. As she spoke of the differences in physiology, his mind was lost in the smile on her face. In the palace, he seldom saw such euphoria on the handmaiden's features but when she spoke with him—when she was finally allowed to speak of things she truly loved—she lit up far brighter than even the most stunning goddesses.

"My apologies, my Lord." She said shaking her head, "I know well this subject is of little interest to you. I believe you must meet with your father, yes?"

Letting out a sigh, Loki gave a sympathetic smile towards the goddess. He could see the visible disappointment on her face as she looked to the small flowers in her hands—picking off clusters of small, pink petals.

"Unfortunately." he whispered, picking up the delicate petals from her dirt-laden hands, "And what does this do?"

Again, a pink hue enveloped her cheeks as he held her hand in his. Smiling towards him, Loki could feel his face heat up as she put a small finger to his chest and looked into his eyes.

"Tis good for your heart."

Sitting up, The God of Mischief blinked a few times in the darkness. Lately his mind had been reeling with images of The Other and Thanos. In the silence of his slumber he had become well acquainted with miserable memories and painful recollections. He had certainly never had anything like that.

Rubbing his forehead, he thought back to the images from centuries ago. Had they come flooding back because his mind had been wrought with guilt as of late? Had they come back because he had been forced into contact with the people he most wanted to avoid? The images from so long ago were unwanted—they were troublesome. He was a criminal, a prisoner or Asgard, and he had no use for such damaging nostalgia.

But as he sat alone he knew that it was not just a nostalgia that came with these memories. Casting aside all useless emotions, what resonated more powerfully was the haunting realization of words from a time long past. Recalling how easily him and Thor dismissed the Jotuns—how easily he hated his own kind—shook him. And yet…

She hadn't.

Letting out a frustrated breath, Loki felt the guilt crawling back with a devastating ferocity. Guilty because he had become the very monster he spoke ill of all those years ago. Guilty because he had thrown away everything in a futile attempt to become something he wasn't. The pain that came with that memory was far worse than anything Thanos could have done to him—far worse than any threat The Other could have screamed in his face.

He truly wished their words plagued his mind instead of hers.


Eir could feel the slight chill on her face as she walked through the flowered field of Fólkvangr—the land of Asgard's slain. Casting her golden eyes over the breathtaking landscape, the Goddess could see her destination in the distance. Far beyond the entrance of Fólkvangr, a golden hall lay nestled in the soul-laden land. In the distance, she could see the famous Sessrúmnir—Freya's hall.

Lifting up her dress, Eir swallowed hard as she continued her trek through the field. For most of Asgard, the field was nothing more than a beautiful place to remember the fallen warriors. To her and her eyes, however, it was much more. All around her, she could see the ghostly auras of Asgard's fallen. They grasped at her, their deathly touches nipping her delicate skin…reminding her that she was not apart of their world.

Closing her eyes, Eir started to run as she heard the ghostly wails of the sprits chase her. She could hear the snapping of flowers under her feet and feel the butterflies dancing past her face as she quickened her pace. Finally reaching the end of the field, the Goddess raised her eyes to meet the large, golden steps of Sessrúmnir.

Finally, she was there.

As her shaky hands opened the large doors to the hall, Eir could hear the faint chime of music. A sickly sweet smell filled the air as she entered the hall, and all around her elegantly dressed woman played equally beautiful instruments. As far as she could see, gems and silver glittered the ceiling as if it were the night sky. It was a truly spectacular hall, one fit perfectly for a Goddess known for beauty and love.

In the distance, Eir could see the Goddess herself. Seated at a large golden throne, a spectacularly beautiful woman sat-Freya. She was one of the Vanir—an Asgardian sister race—and was known throughout the realms for her beauty. Standing in her presence, Eir felt truly unworthy—for her figure paled in comparison to the Goddess before her. Taking a deep bow, Eir presented herself before Freya.

"Why, this is quite a surprise!" Freya's voice sang out, "The Goddess of Medicine has come to my hall. Your domain is the body, Eir. I know not why you have sought my council."

Eir could feel her heart beating quicker as she heard the woman speak. She felt ashamed to be seeking Freya's help in this matter, for the Goddess was right—her domain was the very healing she so desperately needed. Swallowing her pride, Eir cast her golden eyes into Freya's crystal blue.

"Please, Lady Freya." Eir whispered, her voice shaking, "You know well my magic works not on myself."

Gold eyes watched as Freya sent an appraising look over their owner. Taking a deep breath, Eir shuttered as she saw the look on the Goddess's face as she cast her gaze over her dark hair and unimpressive womanly form.

"So be it, Eir." Freya decided, "Though I work not without pay. I trust you brought tribute?"

Fishing through her pockets, Eir's shaking hands handed the only thing of value she owned to the waiting handmaiden. A sadness came over her as she watched the handmaiden present the delicate golden necklace to the Goddess in front of her. Her chest hurt as she watched Freya run her perfect fingers over its exquisite detail—seemingly pleased with the elegance that it emitted.

"Tis fit for a queen." Freya admitted, "As a servant to Frigga, I pray you didn't steal this."

Closing her eyes, Eir felt her heart become heavy as she remembered the warm fingers of the man she loved dance over her bare shoulders when he gave it to her. She could almost feel his breath on her neck as he told her that he loved her…almost taste the wine on his lips as he kissed her. She could still feel her heart quicken as she remembered him telling her it matched her eyes—that she looked stunning. Feeling unwilling tears on her face, Eir shook her head.

"I swear to you, my lady." She asserted, "Tis mine."

Eir cringed as Freya threw the necklace that meant so much to her on the floor next to her throne. Wiping away the tears on her face, the Goddess watched as Freya gave her a wicked smile.

"How may I be of service, Eir?" she asked, "Shall I make you more beautiful? Make a man love you? What is it?"

Biting her lip, Eir cast her eyes to the floor to avoid the prying eye of Freya. She could feel her chest becoming tighter as she tried to hold back tears-not wanting to say the words that sat on her lips. To admit to Freya her shortcoming would make it real…would make every lie she told to herself hurt more. Eir could feel the warm tears falling from her eyes as a weak admission left her lips.

"I am barren." She whispered, her voice breaking, "I pray you can help me."

As Eir lifted her glossy eyes towards the beautiful Vanir before her, she could see the obvious shock on the woman's face. This time, Freya's analytical eyes meant so much more. Though it must have been moments, the silence in the hall seemed to last ages. With each passing second, Eir could feel her heart breaking.

"My powers over Fertility are not absolute." Freya explained with some sympathy evident in her voice, "I fear I cannot fix whatever defect causes you trouble, Lady Eir."

This time, her body could not hold back the tears. With this news, Eir could feel her whole being shake as saline left her glittering eyes. Falling to her knees, the woman could feel her hand shaking as she put it to her lips-trying very much to contain a sob. Casting her metallic eyes towards Freya, she begged:

"Please, my Lady." Eir whispered shakily, "I will do anything."

Eir could see Freya sending her a sympathetic look.

"Fear not, Eir." She assured, "Though you may be barren, any man on Asgard would be pleased to have a Goddess as his wife. If this man claims to love you less because of this…well, he is unworthy of you."

Letting out a jagged breath, Eir closed her eyes in thought. She could remember the concerned look on her lover's face as she admitted the truth she had been trying to hide. She could still feel the strength of his embrace as he assured her that his love for her remained unwaivered—that it changed nothing. Despite all this, she now found herself crying at Freya's feet.

"Tis not that." Eir explained with her voice failing, "Tis—"

Eir could feel a panic overcome her as a look of shocked understanding washed over Freya's fair features—a sick smile curling on her delicate, painted lips.

"Tis not enough to simply love him." Freya finished, "I can only think of one situation for which that would be so."

The Goddess of Medicine could feel her bottom lip trembling as devastated tears fell from her eyes. As she cast her gaze away from the Goddess of Love, Eir knew her silence acted as a painful admission. Golden eyes watched as Freya picked up the gilded necklace she had given as tribute once again. This time, she watched as Freya looked over the details with a newfound understanding that gave birth to a wicked smile across her features.

"He will choose power over you." Freya decided, running her fingers over the designs, "No amount of love can quench the desire to be king."

Without thinking, Eir spoke.

"You're wrong." She insisted more to herself, "He swears this changes nothing."

Eir could feel large tears trickle down her cheeks as the malicious smile returned to Freya's lips.

"Then why are you here?"

Closing her eyes, Eir jumped as the necklace was thrown towards her on the golden floor. She could feel an impossible sadness wash over her as Freya's words stabbed her—the truth of them clawing at her heart. She knew that it would not be his choice in the end. The Queen, despite being her ever-faithful servant, would never allow her son to wed a broken woman. She would never allow her son to choose a woman who could not bear him an heir.

"Take your pathetic hope with you." Freya decided, "In the end, it will be you he throws away."

With a jolt, the golden halls of Sessrúmnir were replaced with white walls. In her bed, Eir stared at the blank ceiling above her—wet tears streaming down her face. Everything had felt so real—everything had been just as she remembered itーjust as she had been trying to forget.

Not willing herself, broken cries left her lips. Alone in the darkness, the Goddess couldn't stop herself from sobbing. Crying because she had been stupid…crying because Freya had been right. Crying because she now found herself tasked with fixing the irreparable slights of a man who threw her away in the wake of hers. Crying because though she possessed one of the greatest minds in Asgard…

She had been daft enough to believe a beautiful liar.


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