AN: I really cannot say sorry enough! This should have been out months ago, but life in Japan got crazy. The drama, the stress, the everything just left me zero time to sit down and write. While I still do not have the first chapter of the one-shot finished, I decided to post the last chapter of this.

I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for your support throughout the whole story! You are all the most amazing people in the world, and I hope you all enjoy the "sequel/prequel" when it comes out :)

-Tonshi


Chapter 40: The Necklace


Loki explained it to her like this: Odin had used the power of the gauntlet to save Asgard, and used his own force to make sure no one could ever use the stones again. The gauntlet was smart; it had a conscious, and would never use its power against itself. Ancient magic was more resilient magic, and it would take more than a few blasts to destroy an artifact like the gauntlet. Odin had done what he did to make sure Asgard never fell to the stones again.

But just because Asgard had been healed, that didn't mean all wounds were. Dying had been painful, and the memory of it had left a deep psychological scar. Even now, Eir could smell the metallic scent of blood, and she could still taste the salt of tears. At night, she would wake up screaming—her mind recalling her rapid loss of consciousness and the suffocating feeling of drowning in blood. Sometimes she would lie to herself, she would tell herself that the whole event had been a bad dream, but when she looked in the mirror she was reminded that it had all been very real.

Looking at herself in the vanity, the handmaiden traced the scar on her neck with shaking fingers. It was large and obvious, cutting across her flesh like a grotesque necklace, forcing her to bear a physical reminder of the evil that befell Asgard. Each time she looked in the mirror, she was reminded of the blade making contact with her skin. She could still see Thanos's eyes.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

Sometimes when she would close her eyes, she would see his face—she would see Loki staring down at her failing form. She would hear his words in her dreams, the promises and apologies haunting reminders of his awful desperation, and it made her sick. It was an ugly memory, just like her scar, and she wished she could wash them both away.

"I personally think it's kind-of badass." Darcy remarked, her hands playing with the fabric on her gown. "I mean, you can make up a pretty crazy story. Knife fight? A bar brawl? That scar will earn you some serious street cred."

Eir couldn't help but smile at the mortal.

"Besides," Darcy smirked wickedly. "I bet Loki thinks it's cool."

Now that was something Eir knew to be false. If anything, it was a reminder that he couldn't keep her safe. It was a reminder that she had made a sacrifice for him, when he couldn't do the same for her. He would never tell her it bothered him, but it did. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her.

"Thank you, Lady Darcy." Eir smiled weakly. "I shall endeavor to create an interesting tale to tell."

"You better!" Darcy smiled. "Next time you're on Earth—"

But before Darcy could finish, the mortal doubled over in a bow. In the doorway was a beautiful woman, whose locks of gold were twisted in the most elaborate of designs. Frigga was dressed in her most stunning dress, jewels from all over the realms drenching her form, and she looked gorgeous. She was ready for Thor's coronation, prepared to transfer power to her son, and she had never looked more regal.

"Lady Darcy, I fear I require an audience with Eir." Frigga said with a warm smile. "I do believe Lord Fandral waits for you."

Eir watched as Darcy gave another bow before waving good-bye and rushing out towards the hall. Though she tried to hide it, Frigga had the slightest ounce of amusement on her face as she walked into the small room. Her blue eyes cast themselves over the many chemicals on the walls, and her hands danced across the crude woodcarvings on her wall in an assessing manner. When the woman walked over towards the desk, her hands immediately picked up the small flower book that lay atop it—flipping through the pages with interest.

"My son thinks me blind." She remarked, her fingers passing over the many pressed flowers. "He is a fool."

To this, the doctor remained quiet. She did feel guilty going against the queen's wishes, and when Frigga's fingers passed over the many flowers Loki had given her, the guilt only became heavier. Despite everything that had happened, the queen had insisted that Loki was still not hers to have. It was unheard of for a betrothal to be severed on Asgard, especially one of the royal variety, and Loki was to remain bound to Sigyn. Frigga had made it clear that political advantages were far more important than the hearts of two people.

"Still, when I saw Loki he looked at me like he did so long ago." Frigga whispered, her eyes now cast towards a window. "He embraced me and told me he loved me."

This time, the queen's blue eyes looked towards the handmaiden.

"I know not if it was ancient magic or something more." She started. "But I must thank you, Eir. My son's scars run deep, but I believe in time he will truly recover."

Bowing her head towards the queen, Eir gave the woman a sad smile. Loki had been fundamentally changed by everything, and he was never going to be the prince she once knew. But each day his smile became a little brighter, each day he laughed a little louder, and his world became lighter. He would speak of the horrors he faced and try to wash them away, but they were apart of him. He was a different man, but he had also become a better one—and she loved him all the same.

"I have thought long and hard on how to repay you." Frigga added, her fingers lifting the doctor's chin up. "But one cannot pay in rubies and diamonds for the life of a lost son."

For the first time in so long, the queen smiled a genuine smile.

"So I thought I would return the favor."

Looking up at Frigga, Eir sent a confused look towards the queen.

"My lady, I fear I don't understa—"

"Enough." Frigga ordered, her voice almost playful. "Thor's coronation is set to begin and I know not where either of my sons are. Be a dear and fetch them, will you?"


"How do I look?"

Looking towards Thor, Loki gave his brother a small smile. While it had only been a few years prior that they had stood in that very spot, they had seemed so much younger. Loki could remember the naïveté of his brother, and he could remember that Thor was still unprepared for the burden of the throne. Thor had been loud and obnoxious—someone who would be an ill fit for Asgard.

And him? Well, he had still been living a false life; he had been jealous and vindictive. He had spent years in exile since then, been tortured in prison and had attempted to overthrow worlds, but that was now behind him. Falling into Yggdrasil had broken his mind, and when he looked in the mirror he saw someone who looked aged. After everything he had been through, he felt older—and perhaps a little wiser.

But looking at Thor now, Loki couldn't help but see a king in the place of his brother. The once naïve prince was replaced with a seasoned warrior and a true hero. Asgard needed revitalization and a new direction, and he knew Thor to be the answer the realm so desperately needed. Though he once sought the throne Thor was to take today, Loki knew he would be an ill fit—for when he looked at himself, he saw not a king, but a man starting over.

"Like a king." Loki answered sincerely.

Thor looked at the feathered helmet in his hand before casting his gaze over to Loki.

"If this is to tear us apart again, I will decline." Thor whispered. "You are worth more than a title."

Smiling to himself, Loki shook his head. He didn't want the throne-not anymore. During Thor's banishment, he had sat upon Odin's golden seat and hoped that everything would be well, but nothing changed. Everything that he hoped would be mended by its power remained broken. Though he hoped the throne would make him Thor's equal, it never did. In the end, actions had done that.

"No." Loki decided. "The throne will suit you well."

"I will oft seek your counsel, you know." Thor smiled reassuringly. "You are far sharper than I."

Not being able to stop himself, Loki laughed.

"So you finally admit it?"

"Humility was never your strong suit, Cow."

"Nor was it ever yours, Feathers."

Feeling the weight of Thor's hand on his shoulder, Loki smiled.

"I missed you." Thor admitted. "I am pleased you are back."

Loki looked towards his reflection in the golden floor.

"Me too."

Turning around, the younger prince smirked as a familiar face came into view. With the clicking of shoes echoing through the hall, Eir stopped with relief painted over her features. She looked flustered, no doubt sent on some task from his mother, but she still looked exquisite. Dressed in the finest raven lace and with gilded tinsel hanging from her dark locks, she truly looked the part of a goddess. And when she smiled towards him, he couldn't believe he had ever thrown her away.

When Eir had died, something in him had snapped; he could feel his mental control crumble and he lost what little clarity he had. Though he never wanted to admit it, she had fixed some part of him—healed some broken aspect of his mind and patched parts he didn't know were damaged. She had reminded him what it felt like to be loved; and when she bled to death in his arms, he felt empty once more.

Though she had begged him to lie to her, the words he spoke were nothing but the truth. When he spoke of them being together, when he spoke of the life he wanted for her, he had truly meant it. What had been truly terrifying that night had not been Thanos—it had been the notion that the world he had painted for her would go unfulfilled. What was truly terrifying was a life without her in it.

That night, she had been willing to give her life for him; he thought it only logical to return the gesture.

"There you are!" she sighed. "Your mother positively irate. The ceremony is set to start, and we have not Asgard's king."

Thor walked over and smacked the doctor on the back.

"Lady Eir, you art a woman!" Thor remarked astutely. "How do I look?"

Brilliant gold eyes looked the prince over.

"Much better than that bridal dress, Milord."

Letting out a laugh, Loki noticed that Thor's face turned a deep shade of red. But as Thor started to play with his helmet once more, the nerves overtaking his powerful presence, the woman gave him a sincere look and a warm smile.

"In truth, Milord, you look kingly." She admitted. "T'will be an honor to serve under you."

Loki made a mental note to harass her over that wording later.

"Now come along." She urged. "Before the queen has my head."

And as Loki locked arms with the famous doctor and walked off, Thor felt for the first time that all would be well. Asgard still had much that needed to be rebuilt, and the hearts of its people were still tainted from war, but Thor hoped that he could mend the cracks in time. Though he had lost a father, he had regained a brother—and as he watched Loki smile towards the handmaiden, Thor realized he had sorely missed him.

Thinking back to Midgard, Thor could still remember the way his brother looked. Crazy and obsessed, Loki had lost his mind and his way. At night, Thor would try to forget the way his brother had looked in Asgardian prison; he tried to forget the animalistic pacing and screams. Each day, Thor managed to forget a little bit more.

Looking at Loki now, Thor could see the flicker of his brother of old. While a veil of darkness still rested over Loki, each day tore a new hole in it. A lightness had returned to his brother's features, and with each passing day, he saw a little bit more of the man that was once lost. Each day, he saw a little flicker of his best friend.

Eir had always been championed as the greatest healer in all the realms—she could raise the dead and fix the gravest of ills—but in helping Loki, she had done something truly remarkable. She had managed to fix him on a level beyond medicine, and beyond scientific reason. When all of Asgard thought him lost, when his own family thought him lost, she had succeeded. For Loki, it seemed as if each smile from the goddess was a form of healing. Each look, each touch, each hushed laugh in the hallway led Loki closer to salvation. Each day, he was one step closer to leaving the monster behind.

Smiling to himself, Thor placed the silver helmet upon his head and took a final look towards his brother.

Yes, perhaps Eir truly was the greatest healer in all the realms.


Eir wrapped a shawl around her as she exited the banquet hall, the winter air crisp against her skin. It was a perfect night, the stars glittering and the colors from the other realms painting across the black canvas. Even nature, it seemed wanted to celebrate Thor's ascent to kingship, and in the cool breeze she could still hear the loud laughing from the hall behind her.

Behind her, she could hear Darcy gushing over the grandiose nature of Asgard, and she could hear Tony Stark arguing on how his tower was better. Erik Selvig, one who had heard tales of Asgard as a child, was star struck over each character from his myths and legends.

All had come out to celebrate, mortals and gods alike, and she had never seen a gathering as grand. Everyone wished to celebrate the return of Asgard and the victory from the evil that befell it. The event had changed Asgard for the better—everyone seemed to dance a little wilder and love more intensely—Death had let all appreciate the life they had once taken for granted.

As a doctor, she had always thought herself wiser than the commoner and more appreciative of life. Death often descended her arena, and in her youth she had been powerless to save those most important to her, but it had turned out she was no wiser than everyone else. In focusing on saving patients, she had forgotten to live herself. When Loki had woven all the wonderful lies on her deathbed, she realized just how much of her life she had sacrificed. In saving others, she had lost herself.

Feeling the corner of her lips twist into a smile, her golden eyes found the man she was looking for. Seated alone on a marble seat, the prince looked up at the glistening sky. He was dressed in his most stunning ceremonial armor, and at his side sat his impressive horned helmet. Draped in golds and greens he truly looked like the prince he was.

"You look regal, Milord."

Watching him turn around, the goddess felt the heat rush to her face when he flashed her a bright smile. There was something beautiful about his smile, something that had remained pure despite the horrors he had faced, and it made her heart skip. He waved her over a second later, his hands delicately moving his polished helmet from its place next to him and placing it safely on the ground. In its metal finish, she could see the reflection of the stars.

"Far better than prison rags." Loki agreed as she sat down. "Though if you fancied those I could always…"

The doctor could feel the heat rising to her cheeks once more.

"I may miss the leather."

This time, it was his turn to have a faint, pink tint grace his features. Sitting in silence for a while, the two of them simply listened to the sounds of partygoers and watched the meteors streak across the sky. Eir wished they could stay like this forever; she wished they could go back to a time when reality hadn't stripped their dreams away and life hadn't made them cold. She wished she could drown herself in his smile, and stare at the cosmos for hours.

"They all think you a hero, you know." She whispered, finally breaking the silence between them. "Quite a change, yes?"

Shaking his head, Loki dismissed her statement.

"I considered using the gauntlet for myself." He admitted quietly. "T'was only at the last second I decided against it."

His green eyes traveled towards his horned helmet.

"I am no hero; just Loki."

Putting her hand on his, the handmaiden gave the prince a small smile. 'Just Loki' was her very best friend. He was arrogant and entitled—he was sometimes jealous and cruel—but that meant little to her. 'Just Loki' made her laugh harder than any other, he collected her flowers from across the realms, and he had woven her words more beautiful than any poetry. He would sneak her out of the palace to watch shooting stars and listen to her medical discoveries for hours. Though he thought little of himself, she knew him to be so much more: a true hero, if only in her eyes.

"Well." She said quietly. "I would wish it no other way."

Feeling herself moving, the goddess was pulled into a kiss. His lips were cold and his breath held a hint of Asgardian ale. It was soft and unlike the kiss they had shared after the battle. It held no desperation, only affection, and when his fingers laced with hers she could feel the faint skipping of his heart. He was smiling against her lips now, and when his hands moved to her neck and his fingers danced over her scar, he pulled away to reveal a mischievous smirk.

"I have just the thing."

Watching carefully, the woman raised an eyebrow when the man's hands reached into his armor and pulled out a small leather sack. It was familiar, her name faded and etched in gold on the skin, and she had thought it lost in battle. When he handed it back to her, she instantly opened it to see that everything was there—save for one, very important thing.

"Looking for this?"

Gazing up, Eir felt her heart stop when she saw the delicate piece of jewelry between his fingers. While part of her was relieved that such an important treasure had not been lost, another was mortified that he had found it. Of all the precious things she could have taken from Asgard, she had saved the one stunning gift he had ever given her.

"I should certainly get you something better." He repeated, his words from a script of old. "But for now…"

Feeling the chill of metal on her neck, Eir shivered slightly as he clipped the jewelry in its place. In the metal of his helmet, she could see her reflection and how the beautiful piece draped across her neck. Surprisingly, it covered the scar completely.

"Tis not something a peasant could afford." She reminded, her words also an echo of a memory. "All of Asgard will know."

Without missing a beat, Loki smiled.

"I want them to."

Blinking towards him, the handmaiden suddenly realized the magnitude of what he was saying and almost instantly the weight of Frigga's words came crashing down on her—her heart suddenly racing at the thought. Eir had given Loki back to Frigga…and the queen had said she returned the favor.

His betrothal had been nullified.

"Lok—"

"If you will have me, of course." He added quickly. "I would hate to be presumptuous."

Not able to formulate words, the goddess pulled the man into another kiss. When he had been gone, she found herself thoroughly broken. He lifted her up, he made her strong, and there was no one in all the realms she would rather be with. Smiling against his lips, the goddess prayed that her actions said all the words she couldn't find.

She hoped he knew it was a resounding 'yes'.


Thank you all so much! I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to hit "complete"! If you want to keep updated on the One-Shots ( Title: Thread of Gold ) follow me as an Author! :)

Again, thank you all so much! I could not have a better group of reviewers :)