Ciri opened her eyes, brought back to her current reality by the shaking of her body. Clint Barton stood over her, preparing to slap her again when she groggily nudged his hand aside. "I am awake."
She struggled to sit up and he kept her in place. "Don't move yet. Medics are on the way." He pressed a gauze pad to the side of the her head. He looked uncharacteristically worried. Ciri tried to move again. Her eyes felt really heavy, but Clint had just said not to sleep so she held it off.
"What...what happened?" She was really struggling not to go limp and fall into a warm dream. "What's that ringing sound?"
"Stop moving so much Ciri." Clint was gentle. "You took a heavy blow right to the head. I don't need a doctor to tell me you have a severe concussion. One of your pupils is almost your entire eye."
"I have to get to Loki." Ciri protested, an overwhelming fear filling her limbs. "I have to stop Fury." Her breathing began to accelerate with her hear rate and Ciri struggled to sit up again.
Tony, who had just been scared back to life by Bruce stood over her, holding his side. He let out a whistle. "She's really confused. Someone call Helen Cho."
"Fuck you, Iron Dick." Ciri snapped, her pain ever present. "I just got rammed through a building. But I can still tell proper nouns apart from one another. I mean I have to stop Fury. Have to...Loki."
"Loki is already cuffed in my tower." Alarm spiked so sharply in her veins that Ciri managed to pull away from Clint and stood.
"I told you all what he means to me. You treated me as one of you. Gave me the same concern you did each other. And you're still just going to let Thor take him?" She trembled with anger.
"Aren't you Asgardian too?" Natasha was confused.
"I can't go home because I refused to marry the elvenking." Ciri said, biting her cheek. "I am a political outcast. They vowed to storm the palace and kill everyone inside one day because of what I did. If you let Thor take him, it's all over for me."
Clint frowned, the memory of his own mind control fresh in his eyes. "No, Clint. Before you say it, my mind is my own. Don't let this happen." Nausea was over riding her temporary burst of adrenaline so she let herself be gently laid back down.
"Nothing will get decided while you're recovering." Steve reassured her.
Ciri fully relaxed. He doesn't make false promises. Perhaps I can rest and let the healing factor kick in. "Does anyone else see the sparky, glowing orange circle there?"
x
Her name was the Ancient One and she claimed to be able to treat Ciri like no one else could. A couple of the less banged up Avengers joined Ciri in going through the portal. "We're still in New York." Natasha wrinkled her brow, looking out the window.
"Are we?" The Ancient One asked with a beguiling smile. "We both are and... aren't. Look again, Widow."
"That's...Russia and now... Hong Kong." Unnerved, Natasha turned away from the window to watch the magic the other woman was weaving over Ciri. "You said you knew the truth of what she was. What did you mean?"
"Well, you might yet see for yourself if Ciridormu stops fighting my attempts to help."
"She does that." Clint kept quiet, still clearly not comprehending how Ciri could love Loki so deeply. "What are you doing with that green rock? It feels... familiar. Similar to Loki's staff."
"They are the same class." The Ancient One said simply. "But this is one is the same kind as Ciri herself."
"Again...which kind is that?" Natasha wasn't letting go just yet.
"Time." The Ancient One didn't offer much elaboration on this.
"You called her Ciridormu. Is that her real name?" Clint asked, recalling that she was amnesiac.
"It would seem so." She went back to treating the young lady. "I hope this space is large enough." For what? Clint wondered.
x
Ciri was dreaming, she thought. It was all shifting colors and shouted words, though so she couldn't be sure. The colors solidified into the interior of a cave, the details of which stayed somewhat vague and unknowable. Ciri followed the sounds of sobbing and pleading, noting with alarm how labyrinthian the passages were in this strange and unfamiliar space. "Please!" She began to make out whole sentences and almost froze. That was her voice. "Father please!"
Ciri picked up her pace, and could hear the sounds of someone struggling growing louder. "Get away from me!" It was snarled in her own voice. Ciri came around the corner at last and stopped in shock. There she was with much longer, shinier brown hair, and glowing light blue eyes. It could almost be seen as bronze if light would only strike it a bit better. Before other-Ciri were three figures, all with their backs turned. One hand a wild mane of blue hair that almost touched the floor, and was currently focused on maintaining what appeared to be arcane manacles holding other-Ciri to the wall.
A second blue-haired figure was approaching with outstretched hands as Ciri squirmed like her life depended on it, pleading to the other figure, one who looked oh-so-familiar. He walked up on the opposite side and cupped her cheek. "This is for your own good, child. It pains me. Please don't struggle. You'll make the enchantment jagged."
Other-Ciri, still crying said something in response that chilled dreaming-Ciri to the bone. "You've already failed. Why do it anyway?" Other-Ciri locked eyes with her. "Please...send me away if you have to, but don't take the very truth of what I am away from me."
"It is necessary." The figure that was apparently their parent said, drawing Other-Ciri's eyes back her father.
"I'd rather go infinite." The figure stepped away at this, his posture sad.
"Do it. Be gentle with her."
Ciri couldn't watch anymore. She burst into the chamber, shouting. "What the fuck?! What are you doing? Get away from her!" The figures whipped around to look as her vision blurred at the edges and she gripped her head, fighting back the feeling of hands pulling at the edges of her mind. "Get off me!" Blood dripped from her nose and when Ciri tried to call again, to save the other her...her voice caught in her throat. Her limbs felt like they were breaking, cracking, and rearranging. Ciri screamed in exquisite agony, screamed as every extremity of her body felt like it was on literal fire.
x
Clint's mouth gaped open at the sight before him. The Ancient One was wrestling a large mound of thrashing scales that rested where Ciri had previously. The mound was shrieking. No. That's roaring. "Ciridormu, wake up to your truth!"
And all at once the shaking room went still and quiet as the scaled mound stopped desperately fighting. Then Ciri's voice, louder and more rumbly than it usually was cut through the the thick sense of awe. "I'll never forgive him."