Songs for this chapter:

- Remember Me, by Josh Groban (the end theme for the Troy movie).

- Tonight I Celebrate My Love, by Peabo Bryson & Roberta Flack.

- In My Daughter's Eyes, by Martina McBride.

- Listen to the Wind, by Hayley Westerna (just a part of it).

- Fire and Rain, the Acoustic Cover by Boyce Avenue (Just a part of it).

- A Thousand Years, Cover by Harmonize Projekt 2

From what I know of canon, I understand that Jane's ex-boyfriend is supposed to be called Donald Blake... but since I really don't think Jane would want to give Thor the name of her ex, even if only to use as a fake-name, I changed it to Daniel. The story of those two came from too many fanfiction-reading (enough people seem to agree in things that I no longer know if they're canon, fanon, or just a lot of people sharing the same ideas).

WARNING: There is death in this chapter. Some you've been expecting already, some not. For specific mention of possible triggers please check the first line of the End notes.

Now, on with this chapter. The final part of this side-story.

Choir

"You don't need to be here, you know?" A quiet voice said softly.

In that moment Tinúviel was sitting on the floor, back against the wall, in her lap were a dozen arrows, used arrows, and the she-elf was carefully doing what she could to salvage them. In their current situation she would be needing every arrow she could get her hands on.

And their current situation, was battle. They'd all seen it coming, the situation in Egypt had only escalated in the last couple of years, and it'd finally snapped. War had broken out, claiming lives left and right. Loki and Tinúviel were there. Had been for several weeks by then; they'd stood at their friends' side, doing everything in their hands to help. Loki was a great warrior, and one of the best strategists anyone had ever seen, then there was his magic (which he used little, so as not to be noticed by those who knew not who he really was, but still); Tinúviel was a talented archer herself, though it was her gift for healing that had saved the most lives.

It had been years since Amora's attack, Sif's naming as Goddess of War, her change of hair, and the discovery of the gift the Stars had granted the she-elf after her bonding to her match. With the help of her mother in law and the Goddess of Healing, Lady Eir herself, Tinúviel had learnt to handle the magic. There were limits to what she could do, of course; and if she over-exerted herself it caused her to black-out and sleep for a long while (though she was getting better). The true surprise, however, came when they learnt she wasn't the only one blessed by the stars. Loki could shadow-walk, a talent believed to have been lost millennia before (believed by most to be nothing more than legend). It was what had allowed the pair to visit their friends in Midgard so often, and to be with them when war broke out.

"Sharifa..." Tinúviel honesty did not know how to respond.

"There's no need for lies among friends." The dark-haired woman said solemnly. "We both know this war is lost already, our husbands know it as well. Kontar and I might as well be considered 'walking dead' right now."

"It need not be that way." The auburn-haired she-elf murmured. "You know that. We can get you out of here..."

"No." Sharifa shook her head, resigned but sure of herself. "We cannot do that, my friend. You know it as well as I. These people..." She waved out the window. "These are our people, and we shall not leave them. Kontar and I shall stand with them to the end..."

And it would be the end, they both knew that, no need to try for denials.

The somber conversation was interrupted as Loki and Kontar abruptly materialized in the middle of the room. It was actually Sharifa's private quarters; the safest rooms to be found in their home. Where the women had barricaded themselves in after the latest battle in an attempt to take a breath before going back out to fight... probably for the last time.

"Habibi (My love)..." Kontar breathed out as he wrapped his arms around his wife.

"Hayete (My life)..." She replied in what had become the usual manner.

He made to walk, but the moment he did, a grimace of pain twisted his face. Which immediately made Sharifa react; as she looked down him, quickly finding the bleeding wound on his flank.

"You're hurt!" She cried out in horror.

"Allow me..." Tinúviel called as she approached them quickly.

It took but a few seconds for the wound on Kontar's side to be healed. Both midgardians turned grateful eyes to the Ljósálfar, who just smiled right back at them. Then they could all here the loud crack of a door being taken down, and they knew the time was running out. The enemy was at their doors.

"We're out of time." Sharifa mumbled quietly.

"You could still leave." Kontar said suddenly to his wife. "Let Loki and Tinúviel take you away, let them save you."

"You will not leave your people, and I will not leave you." Sharifa replied with a strong voice, a hand reaching to caress her beloved's hand. "I vowed to be by your side, no matter what. And to that vow I hold. If this is to be our last day in this life, if we're to enter the Underworld today, I will do so by your side, on your arm. As it was always meant to be."

Kontar trembled, swallowing a sob. He loved his wife so much, and while a part of him wished she would save herself; another couldn't help but rejoice in her choice of staying with him.

"My friends..." He began then, turning to the other two.

"For as long as you fight, so shall we." Tinúviel stated before her match could even think of anything else.

She knew he didn't like the idea of her staying through the upcoming battle, but there was no way she was leaving him. For better or for worse, she would stand by him.

In the end, that battle would be one of the worst the elven princess of Asgard had seen in her life (though, at least in her mind, nothing could be worse than watching her best friend, her almost sister, fall defending her from a crazed Enchantress).

Kontar and Sharifa died that day. She was the first to go down, a blade piercing her stomach and pinning her down. Kontar went crazy when seeing her fall, much like Loki imagined the Berserker soldiers from the old tales of the Ice Wars must have been. He took on what must have been over a dozen warriors on his own, and while he managed to defeat them all in the end, the injuries dealt to him were too many and he collapsed already half dead.

There was nothing either Asgardian royal could do. Tinúviel's powers did not extend to the dead, and by the time she managed to make her way to her friend, it was already too late. Loki, moved by his rage at seeing two of his dearest friends fall, losing everything they'd ever had, and then each other, used the most magic he ever had, leveling the battleground and annihilating half of the enemy army in one go (he also took several allies, probably, but was far too gone to notice it, or really care).

Tinúviel did not bother to focus on the dead. As much as she wanted to be sick at the sight and smell of all the death around her; there was just no time to focus on that. Instead she just ran, ran as fast as her feet would take her, and purposefully not looking at whatever she might be stepping on (she was quite sure her shoes and clothes were ruined already, and she must look a right mess, but she did not care). When she reached her friend, Sharifa was still alive, though barely.

"Here," The Ljósálfar dropped to her knees instantly, hands reaching for the grievous wound almost instinctively. "Let me..."

"No..." Sharifa moaned, her own hands reaching to stop her friend's. "No!"

"Sharifa..." Tinúviel was shocked into stillness.

"Kontar... is dead..." It pained the Egyptian woman to even talk, but she kept at it anyway.

"He... well..." The she-elf didn't know what to say.

"You... need not lie to me." Her friend shook her head slowly. "I... I can sense he's gone... There is... a hole in my heart. I... am going to meet him now."

"Sharifa..."

"I do not want to live without him, my friend. You understand, don't you?"

She did, much as it might terrify Tinúviel to admit it, to even think about it, she truly understood what Sharifa was saying. She couldn't conceive the idea of living without Loki... and she'd seen how much Sharifa and Kontar loved each other. While most might not believe it possible, there was no doubt in the elven princess that those two were a match. The two just loved each other too much for anything else to be possible.

"Take me to him, please." Sharifa asked, unexpectedly. "I promised to be by his side when we went. That we would cross over hand in hand."

For a moment, Tinúviel despaired, there was no way she could do what her friend asked her; she had not the strength, Sharifa was bigger than her! And then, suddenly, her own beloved was there. With a swift motion Loki vanished the blade in Sharifa's stomach; she was dying already, it would make no difference in the end. Then, very carefully so as not to hurt her further, the Aesir prince gathered her in his arms, and carried her several feet, to where Kontar lay, amidst the bodies of too many enemies to properly count. He laid her down then, carefully, beside her beloved, where Sharifa immediately took his closest hand in one of hers.

"Thank you, my friends." She told the two. "For being here, not just today, but every day since we first had the pleasure of meeting you. You've brought great joy to our lives, and even now you've given me a measure of comfort I would have never gotten otherwise."

"Wish we could have done more." Loki admitted quietly, a part of him still raging at everything that was happening.

"You destroyed our enemies, you have avenged us." The Midgardian stated quietly. "You have been the truest friends. I... We could ask for no more than that."

"Goodbye my friend." Tinúviel whispered, taking Sharifa's free hand in hers. "May the two of you find each other in another life, a better life."

"And may we meet the two of you again, somehow, somewhere." The other agreed.

"May the Norns watch over you in your journey." Loki declared. "Go in peace."

"Sing for me, for us, my friends..." Sharifa asked suddenly. "Just...one last time."

"Of course." The Ljósálfar agreed immediately.

She could feel the moment her match made up his mind and, deciding that it was only right for him to sing; after all, as dear as the two midgardians might be to her, they were far dearer to him, for he'd meet them and befriended them first. Two of his first true friends. So she let him sing, and instead let out her grief in a song-wail of her own. Right before he began to sing:

"Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me, in your memory."

"Remember, when your dreams have ended
Time can be transcended
Just remember me..."

"I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun."

"I'm with you whenever you tell my story
For I am all I've done."

They reached a point in the melody then when the young prince couldn't help but double over, his hands reaching to touch the cooling bodies of his friends, even as his match extended her one free hand to place it on his arm, trying to convey her worry, to offer some form of comfort. And even then, even with as much as he hurt, Loki refused to stop his song, he wasn't done yet; and as his voice rose once more, his beloved's rose with his, echoing his melody, his grief, his love:

"Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me, in your memory.
Remember me..."

"I am that one voice in the cold wind, that whispers
And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky."

"As long as I still can reach out, and touch you
Then I will never die."

The feelings were such at that point that Loki couldn't help but curl up into himself just a bit, just for a moment. But Tinúviel did not allow the melody that he'd begun to be broken, instead taking it over. There were no words coming from her, but the cry filled the air, entwining into the song of loyalty, grief, of a friendship so great it had transcended barriers of space, of races...

"Remember, I'll never leave you
If you will only

Remember me."

"Remember me..." The she-elf's voice echoed her match's hauntingly.

"Remember, I will still be here
As long as you hold me
In your memory..."

"Remember, when your dreams have ended
Time can be transcended
I live forever
Remember me
Remember me
Remember... me..."

A last long cry from Tinúviel gave closing to the song, almost at the same time Sharifa stopped breathing, just a second before her heart stopped beating completely

"Namarië, mellonamin (Farewell, my friend)..." The princess whispered to her deceased friend, before breaking into near-hysterical sobs.

The battle had ended at some point, and none seem to be alive around them anymore; the Asgardians did not know when it had happened, nor did they care.

"A'maelamin..." Loki whispered, letting go his friends to hold her match instead.

"Take me away from here Loki..." She whispered, burying her head in his neck. "I wish not be here anymore... I cannot!"

He needed nothing further to be said, without letting her go, Loki called on his power, and they were gone. Leaving behind a battlefield drenched in blood, with no living being left to tell the tale of what had happened there.

It would be many, many long years before either of them felt comfortable visiting Midgard again, before they were willing to make friends, knowing they would lose them some day...

xXx

Tinúviel and Loki were depressed for a very long time, mourning the loss of their friends. No one in Asgard understood it, though Lady Frigg and Sif at least tried to be sympathetic about their grief. Odin did not see the point, the two had been mortal, so it was only to be expected that they would die sooner or later (he also hadn't liked his son and daughter traveling so often to such a 'primitive' realm like Midgard, ); Thor, while trying to be supportive, just couldn't understand why anyone would come to care so much about people knowing they would lose them, even if not to war, to their own mortality.

"You will understand one day, Thor." Tinúviel told him simply.

She couldn't have known it, but her words were prophetic, one day the god of thunder truly would understand, in more ways than he could have ever imagined, or wanted to. One day he would come to care for mortals as much as he did for his own family, and would come to love one more than his own life. And he would understand the bittersweet taste of loving someone you know cannot stay with you forever. But it would yet be many years before that happened.

It was the most unexpected of events that finally got Loki and Tinúviel out of their grief. The arrival of Ylva late one night. The first thing that called the couple's attention was that she wasn't dressed in the traditional attire of the Valkyries, but instead in a crimson dress with one shoulder bare, beneath a half-open tanned hooded cloak. And the surprises did not end there, when the warrior-lady pushed the hood of her cloak, the other two could see that her hair was down (something they'd never seen before), loose blonde curls falling about her shoulders, her honey eyes were shining.

"Ylva?" Tinúviel asked, confused. "Is everything alright?"

"My prince, my princess." The woman bowed respectfully at them. "I hope you'll forgive the suddenness of my arrival, but on this night I come to you with a request."

"What is it?" The princess was honestly intrigued.

"If it is in my power to give, I will give it." Loki hadn't yet forgotten how much help the Valkyrie had been in the recent attempt against his match, he never would.

"I wish for your blessing to bond with Fenrir in marriage on the next full moon." Ylva blurted out suddenly, her voice shaking just a bit with nervousness.

The shock was so great neither royal knew what to say for a minute or so. Though once that was past Tinúviel rushed the warrior-lady, embracing her tightly.

"I'm so happy for you!" She called out brightly.

It was the first time she'd smiled so widely, so sincerely, since Kontar's and Sharifa's deaths.

"It will be my honor to give you my blessing." Loki said sincerely, taking one of Ylva's hands in his one, and then kissing her brow.

He hadn't the slightest idea when the two had met, when they'd fallen in love, nothing at all; though it wasn't really necessary. Both Loki and Tinúviel could tell that the valkyries was sincere in her love for their adopted son. It brought the she-elf especially great joy to know that Fenrir had found someone to love him. After the mess with Lady Idunn, his attempt at courting her, which had become a mess with the lady unable to recognize what Fenrir was doing and the Aesir reacting violently, intent on hunting a wolf... In the end Loki had managed to save his would-be son, but it was a near-miss, and Fenrir had ended magically imprisoned, limited to a meadow in the deepest part of Asgard's forest, unable to leave.

"It would bring us great joy to be there to witness it." Loki added.

"We would feel the same." Ylva nodded in agreement.

A week later the full moon came and prince, princess and Valkyrie left the palace in the cover of the night (it wouldn't do for people to begin talking behind their backs, and they knew if they were to find out that a Valkyrie was to bind herself to one they considered a monster). The mix of the light and inherent power in such an event usually made it easier for the shape-shifter to take humanoid form, which made it the ideal night for a wedding.

Fenrir was already waiting for them when they arrived, he was wearing his usual clothes for when he was humanoid: a dark linen shirt, black pants and leather boots. His hair wasn't as wild as usual when he'd just changed, showing the effort he'd put into looking good for his bride. The moment they arrived Ylva threw aside her cloak, revealing a pale blue (almost off-white) short-sleeved dress with a wide brown belt and leather boots; again her hair was down completely.

Once inside the sealed meadow, Tinúviel hurried to embrace her 'adopted son'; showing with her actions how happy she was for him. Loki too did not need to say a word, Fenrir knew him well enough, the two men clasped hands, wrists touching, showing how much they cared.

The ceremony was a rather simple one. With vows and tokens exchanged. They weren't any pre-arranged words or anything, but what came from their own heart; which made it all the more special. The tokens were just as simple, and important: handmade bracelets, carefully done by them, woven from a strand of leather, a curl of Ylva's hair, and some of Fenrir's own fur. They were simple, and completely perfect.

"We have gifts for you." Tinúviel announced brightly as soon as the ceremony itself ended.

Fenrir and Ylva could only blink; the Valkyrie in particular wasn't used to the princess's almost childlike eagerness when it came to gift-giving. Loki, who'd become used to it in the years since their marriage and, more importantly, could feel his match's honest delight inside her whenever she got the chance to give something to someone she loved, especially when the gift was something she'd made herself, as was the case in that moment; though, right then, the gift was something the two of them had worked on together.

They were cloaks: the cloth carefully woven by Tinúviel herself, who'd poured all her love into the work; even as Loki sat beside her, assisting her when possible, and adding his magic into the fabric as it progressed.

"They're beautiful..." Ylva murmured quietly, as the gifts were handed out.

Fenrir was the first to unwrap his. A sturdy black cloak, perfect to keep him warm; the cloth was strong enough to last even in the outdoors during winter; and the most important was that the mix of love and magic that had been poured into it had turned into some of the most powerful protective spells anyone had ever seen.

Tinúviel's cloak came next, completely different from Fenrir's, and undoubtedly beautiful. It was red, the same shade as the dress Ylva had been wearing on the night she'd asked the royal couple for their blessing to marry their adopted son. It also had the same love, magic and protection woven into it, and something more...

"While red might seem a bit ostentatious, or attention-grabbing; there is a spell woven into this cloak that will allow you to go as good as unseen, whenever you wear it." The she-elf told her.

"Others will see you, but they will not be able to focus on you, when you wear it." Her match elaborated. "Once you're gone they will remember nothing except seeing a random woman pass. That will allow your visits to Fenrir to continue to go unnoticed... and might grant you a level of anonymity and protection when you need it most."

"Thank you." Ylva smiled, like she never had before, as she donned her cloak.

Tinúviel unpacked then the food she'd taken earlier from the kitchens. It was nothing like what an official wedding feast would have been, but certainly enough for the four of them.

The celebration ended eventually, as the moon reached its highest point in the sky. Though the bride and groom had one more request before the celebration ended.

"If you would grant us one more gift." Ylva said. "I've heard of the beauty of elven voices, and would feel incredibly blessed if you would sing something for us before the night ends."

"It would be my pleasure, indeed, to do such a thing." The she-elf declared with a slightly flushed smile. "Though I hope you'll forgive if I have nothing prepared. I shall have to improvise."

And improvise she did, in more ways that one; some that even she could have never planned for:

"Tonight, I celebrate my love for you
It seems the natural thing to do."

The princess began, looking for the right rhythm even as she began the song.

"Tonight, no one's gonna find us
We'll leave the world behind us."

Great was the surprise, not just from her, but everyone, as Loki put his two cents.

"When I make love to you."

And when the two sang one line together, it was like everything suddenly fell into place.

"Tonight, I celebrate my love for you
And hope, that deep inside you feel it too."

Tinúviel sang two more lines, the smile on her face growing as a growing love filled her.

"Tonight our spirits will be climbing
To a sky lit up with diamonds."

Loki added, his own smile reflection that of her match, just as her love echoed hers.

"When I make love to you,
Tonight."

"Tonight, I celebrate my love for you
And that midnight song
Is gonna come shining through."

None of them was sure exactly when it happened; but at some point the two began dancing even as they sang; and a few feet away from them, Fenrir and Ylva were doing the same; quite moved by the improvised song as well as the magic and love every word carried:

"Tonight, there'll be no distance between us."

Loki went on, spinning his wife out with a smile so bright, like no one had ever seen before.

"What I want most to do
Is to get close to you
Tonight."

"Tonight, I celebrate my love for you
And soon this old world will seem brand new."

Tinúviel spun back into him, lips caressing the corner of his lips, never stopping her song.

"Tonight, we will both discover
How friends turn into lovers."

The Aesir prince couldn't help but turn briefly to look at his beloved adopted son and his bride as he said those words; they were as true for them, as they were for himself and his own match.

"When I make love to you."

The she-elf finished with him, as her eyes twinkled, she knew what was in his thoughts, for her own were exactly the same. It didn't matter that they knew relatively little of Ylva; or that they'd never known the two of them were together. They were in love, true love, nothing else mattered.

"Tonight I celebrate my love for you
and that midnight song
Is gonna come shining through."

The moon was shining bright above them, as the two couples danced, the light and the music entwining with the love each of them exuded, creating an atmosphere that went beyond the magic anyone, even Loki, could have called forward on his own. It was the perfect moment.

"Tonight, there'll be no distance between us."

As if to prove the point, the sorcerer pulled his beloved tight against his body, leaving not an inch between them, their breaths mingling, along with their song and their love.

"What I want most to do
Is to get close to you."

The she-elf just held on tight onto him, letting all her love (so much she felt like it would make her burst at any moment) fill the bond between them filling both their souls completely.

"Tonight, I celebrate my love for you
Tonight..."

xXx

Years passed, and soon enough Tinúviel's smiles were lighting Asgard again, her voice carrying her love like the purest magic to every corner of the land; in a way that some said showed her union to it, just like she'd have been tied to Alfheim, had she ever officially become Mother Queen of her birth-realm.

There had been no Queens since her departure, not even true candidates for it. Though there seemed to be no real need for one, either. After so many years of one princess carrying all the duties, it was quite easy for a sisterhood of them to do the same; and with the assistance of the Protectors, the Coven as well as Lord Frey, nothing else was truly necessary. The Realm had learnt some things during Lalaith's twenty years as princess: they'd learnt that change wasn't always a bad thing (whether that meant treaties with other realms, or princesses learning how to defend themselves, or there being no Queen); though the most important perhaps had been that they'd learnt they were all strong.

Tinúviel herself had learnt that too. Whether she was acting as diplomat and ambassador, or as a warrior, she was strong. She was sure that as long as she had her match, nothing would ever be able to stop her.

And so the years passed, and the God of Mischief and Goddess of Compassion became well-known and loved across the realms. Even the dwarves of Nidavellir, known for being some of the most secretive and near-xenophobic beings in the realms of Yggdrasil welcomed the couple into their lands, their secret kingdom beneath the ground. Plans were being made, to one day possibly include Jotunheim as well (though they knew it wouldn't be anytime soon, not with the Ice Wars and the Bloody Night so close still).

One particular morning, Tinúviel woke up abruptly. There was no scream, no gasp, no dramatic reaction to signal that she'd been having a nightmare, or anything else that could have possibly disturbed her rest. Still, her movement as she sat up was enough to wake her match as well, who sat up beside her, trying to find out what was wrong, and yet...

"We're having a child..." His beloved whispered out-of-nowhere.

"Wha...?" The sorcerer was completely floored, never having expected such words to come out of his wife's mouth.

They'd been married for decades at that point, and were still as in love, and as passionate for each other, as they'd been from the very beginning. Tinúviel tried to be proper when in public areas of the palace, or out in the city, though there were times when her husband's own passion for her took over and there was little she could (or wanted to) do to stop him. She knew the Elders and High Nobles did not like it. Public demonstrations of affections were improper and to be kept in private quarters (stars forbid that a couple around there actually love each other and showed it!). Still, and as much as she sometimes liked to see their flustered and rankled expressions when Loki and her would kiss or hold each other a bit too closely in public; in the end Tinúviel had been raised to be a proper princess, and did her best to abide to the rules of decorum. Loki knew that too and did his best not to 'push her' (too often).

"A daughter." She added for good measure.

"How...?" He really couldn't coordinate his thoughts and words in that moment.

Her match arched a brow elegantly, pointedly looking down at herself, and him, neither of them had on a single stitch of clothing, which was his preference rather than hers. The she-elf didn't really mind sleeping in the nude, but wasn't used to it either, and at times worried her that someone might see her one day.

"That's not what I mean!" The prince cried out, blushing just a bit. "I just..."

"I saw her." Tinúviel confessed quietly. "I... I don't know why, or how... or anything. I'm not a Seer, or anything like that. But I'm sure of it. I'm sure it was our daughter that I just saw, I could feel it... and I can feel her now."

As if to prove it, both to him and to herself, the Ljósálfar took one of her husband's hands in hers, pressing it just slightly against her lower stomach. Loki's magic reacted the moment there was contact. A spark of his magic burying inside her, reaching another buried deep inside; the lightest echo of power feeling so big in that moment, as if it would swallow them both.

"You're with child..." He murmured, beyond amazed at the idea.

Tinúviel half rolled her eyes good-naturedly; that was what she'd been telling him...

"I'm going to be a father..." He whispered next, her expression turning into a mix of profound wonder and absolute terror. "I haven't the slightest idea how to be a father!"

"Just like I have no idea how to be a mother." She reminded him. "We'll learn. And we'll have good people to help us along. Like your parents Thor, Sif..."

"A daughter you said?" He sought to confirm next.

"Yes." His match noticed, eyes getting misty just at the memory of what she'd seen in dreams, it might have been just a moment, but it had been enough. "She'll be so beautiful, both inside and out. The brightest light in the universe... our light..."

"Helena..."

It was impossible to know for sure which of them had said it first, or if they both had. But in that moment there wasn't the slightest doubt about it. That was to be their daughter's name. Helena, their beautiful bright light...

The news of the princess's pregnancy spread like wildfire. Everyone celebrated the news. And it was that, despite being very long living beings, the Aesir hardly ever had offspring. Even with the most stable pairings, it almost always took many years before they even began planning for a child, and most had only one or two at most (they also needed to be blessed with one). There had hardly been any children since the princes, and some believed it to be a good sing (of course there were some that were also quite eager to spoil the to-be-princes rotten).

The pregnancy went well-enough. Lady Frigg had good advice to give regarding morning sickness (and random all-day sickness), aches, and everything else. Sif was also always there, ready to help her friend with anything that was necessary. After the assassination attempt she'd been officially given the rank of Valkyrie, she was also considered one of Tinúviel's and Loki's personal guards, along with Ylva; and Erynion, whenever he happened to be in Asgard.

The funniest part of the pregnancy though, were the cravings. While Loki was Tinúviel's match, Thor had promised to help with anything he could; most of the time that amounted to the she-elf's craving (almost always for fresh fruit, something really cold, or both together). A moment came when she couldn't bear anymore to be away from Loki for any serious amount of time; and so Thor had promised to help with the cravings when that happened. It made more than one person laugh, to see the 'golden prince' of Asgard rushing this way and that to get whatever his sister needed; especially since half the time he was followed around by the Warriors Three (who most of the time hadn't the slightest idea what they were supposed to be doing).

It was the last month of the pregnancy that was the hardest. Tinúviel grew weaker very rapidly, going as far as having fainting spells a few times, once actually dropping unconscious in the middle of a hallway, on her way to the dinning hall, after having spent most of the day relaxing in hers and Loki's private garden. When one of her handmaidens found her everyone in the palace went half insane, until Lady Frigg realized what was going on: Loki was a sorcerer, with the potential to be one of the most powerful sorcerers in all the realms; Tinúviel for her part had no magic except her gift for healing. Her child, being a mix of them, had magic, and needed it; and the she-elf couldn't give her that.

It was relatively easy to find a solution, once they knew the problem. The Queen taught her son how to 'donate' some magic to his wife, through the bonds they already shared. She warned them that doing something like that would strengthen them faster than a normal bonding would. Yet, they had married under the Ancient Vows; which meant that, one way or another, they would be together to the end of time. They also found that constant skin-to-skin contact kept the baby calm (which also helped greatly, as it was a big baby, and Tinúviel had never been very tall, despite being a Ljósálfar).

Eventually the day came. It was a long labor, long enough to make almost everyone insane. At first the healers had tried to send Loki out of the room (it was against tradition for him to be present during the birth); until they actually made him go and they all noticed Tinúviel's vitals begin to lower the farther her match got from her. The baby couldn't be without her father's magic in that moment, neither could the mother, for that matter. So Loki was made to sit behind his wife, holding her in his arms, making sure his bare hands were touching her skin directly. It made some things easier, and other harder. The prince had already been ready to refuse leaving his wife, so that made things better; but the direct contact somewhat turned the Ljósálfar's empathy against him, making him feel a ghost of the pain she was enduring. The problem was that he wasn't really taking the pain, so he wasn't really helping her; though at the same time he couldn't help but think it was only right for him to feel what she did, to be with her even in that way, that it was meant to be.

Helena Lokidottir Tinúvieldottir was born on Samhain, right as the bells tolled midnight, with a new moon in the sky and all the stars shining bright. Those who saw the baby the moment she first opened her eyes would say that she had the light of the stars in her eyes, like her mother did; even if the color would eventually change to green (just like her father's). The hair was also very much like Loki's, even as a newborn, the same shade of obsidian black; only with Tinúviel's thick, loose, curls. Her creamy skin was something she'd gotten from both of her parents.

To Loki's great surprise, no one looked more full of joy and pride when introduced to the little baby girl than his father, than Odin Allfather...

"Such a beautiful child..." Odin whispered as he held his granddaughter in his arms.

"Her name is Helena." Loki told him quietly.

"Light..." The King nodded in understanding. "It is a good name. Princess Helena Lokidottir."

And she was a princess indeed, of Asgard, Alfheim and (one way or another) Jotunheim.

Helena got fussy then and Odin immediately passed the daughter to his wife, who'd always had a better hand with little children. Frigg smiled at the baby, instinctively knowing she was hungry, and made her way back to the sleeping chambers, where Tinúviel was resting.

Loki was trying to think an excuse to leave his father and brother and go join his wife. She and their daughter might no longer depend on him; but he was the one that now felt like he couldn't be away from them.

"You have a beautiful, strong daughter, brother." Thor declared, somehow managing to keep his boisterous attitude down (at his mother's insistence).

And he would know, for whatever the reason when he was given a chance to hold Helena, the baby had taken hold of his hair, and pulled. Thor could barely hold back a grimace of pain.

Loki opened his mouth, probably to comment on it, probably to try again and find an excuse to leave, but he didn't get the chance to do either, to even say a word before he felt a big hand, his father's hand, on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you my son..." Odin told him quietly.

It wasn't the first time Loki heard those words. No, ever since their 'moment' in the gardens, before his official betrothal to Tinúviel, Odin had become more aware of his sons' needs (both of them). He was more patient and at the same time strict with Thor; and he gave Loki opportunities to show his talents, as well as praised him when needed (or correct him when necessary). It was not perfect by any measure of it, but certainly a lot better than things had been.

"Now go to your wife and child." The King added in an understanding tone. "I know what you're feeling right now. Spend as much time as you want and can with them, for before you know she'll be fully grown." He let out a breath, tightening the hold on Loki's shoulder for just a moment. "We live such long lives... and yet when it comes to children, it seems like we never have enough time. It just passes by so fast..." He shook his head, finally letting go of his son. "Go now."

Loki didn't need anything else to be said, with a last smile to his father and brother he was gone.

xXx

Time kept moving on, and Helena grew up as a much beloved princess of Asgard. Frigga, who hadn't been blessed with a daughter of her own, loved her granddaughter dearly; though the greatest surprise was all the ways they saw Odin acting as a father, and a grandfather, whenever the little girl was around. No one could resist her innocent smile or the threat of tears from her big, green, starry eyes.

Tinúviel especially loved her daughter with a strength she hadn't known herself capable of. She took every chance to embrace her, hold her tight, kissed the girl's hair, her brow, her eyes. And while, as she grew Helena would sometimes moan in mock-annoyance, truth was she loved the continuous gestures as much as her mama did. Her very first word had been Nana (the elvish word for Mom), and everyone around was sure that there was no word she'd ever pronounced more than that one; and while Loki might complain at times, she loved both of them and could be nothing but delighted at the tight bond mother and daughter shared.

But it wasn't only the bond between mother and daughter. Soon enough it became obvious that Helena had inherited more from her father than just her hair color and eye color. Her magic was all her father's; so much that she needed to begin training almost as young as he had, younger than anyone from the covens in either Asgard or Alfheim. Loki took care of his daughter's magical training personally, with some help from his mother. He found great pleasure in them sharing something just between the two of them. And Tinúviel too enjoyed greatly whenever their little girl would hurry to her side, eager to show off a new trick.

It was a perfect life, perhaps too perfect. A corner of their minds had probably whispered that it wouldn't last; but they knew that already. Things could never stay perfect forever; and yet they weren't going to stop living their lives, worrying about something that might or might not happen. There was no point.

The next moment of joy came shortly before Helena's twentieth birthday: Princess Tinúviel was pregnant again, with another daughter. It was unheard of in Asgard, for royals to have only daughters, enough of a surprise it had been for the firstborn to be a girl, when it had always been sons. Of course, those who believed that way hadn't taken the elven princess into consideration, matriarchal lines were a given in Alfheim. It wasn't that were that many more women than men (not anymore, enough years had passed since the Ice Wars); but some bloodlines were carried more by females than males; as was the case of Lalaith's own.

The second pregnancy was quite different from the first. The first surprise had come in the fact that instead of craving cold foods, like she had with Helena, Tinúviel was craving warm and hot things, and sweets. Her favorite drink was hot cocoa (which was extremely funny considering the beverage wasn't Asgardian, though quite common in other realms like Vanaheim, Alfheim and, of course, Midgard).

The other surprise was because, unlike the first time she'd been pregnant, Tinúviel no longer needed to be touching her husband all the time, not that she didn't take any excuse to do just that; the first pregnancy had left just enough magic inside of her that the baby could take from that; and the strengthened bond between the two kept the magic flowing. That, in turn, meant the Ljósálfar wasn't weakened, she did not faint, or anything of the like. And, of course, Loki was not as good as tied to her all the time.

That proved to be a blessing when trouble began anew.

No one knew for sure when Amora had escaped from prison. The sisters hadn't been in the prison in the lower levels of the palace; as neither prince of Asgard wanted them anywhere near their family, especially Tinúviel and Helena. So instead they'd been sent to another prison, near the very edge of the Realm Eternal. By the time they learnt of the sisters' escape they were long gone, and with Amora's knowledge of the Hidden Paths, could be anywhere.

A plan was made right away. Ylva and Sif, along with two other, experienced, Valkyries were chosen two lead two separate teams of the female warriors and hunt down the Enchantresses. A third team was formed by males, those who were soul-bonded to their chosen match, or had a full preference for their own gender; for they were the only ones anyone could be sure would not fall under Lorelei's thrall. Loki himself lead that last group, and unlike the Valkyries, they did not leave Asgard; instead they patrolled the Realm Eternal.

For, as focused as the warrior-ladies might be on hunting the sisters down before they could hurt anyone; Loki could remember with painful clarity what had happened last time. Amora as obsessed with Thor, and saw Princess Tinúviel as the reason why she couldn't be with the 'golden prince'; the crazed enchantress was as unlikely to give up on either obsession (Thor as a match and Tinúviel dead), as Loki himself as unlikely to stop loving his wife and daughter. And with Tinúviel pregnant the situation became all the more delicate.

Still, the elven princess wasn't one to lay back and depend completely on others. She agreed on the necessity of staying in the palace grounds. But whenever she went, her bow and quiver of arrows weren't far from her hand. Nor was Helena, either. The girl had cajoled a number of Valkyries as well as her uncle and the Warriors Three into teaching her at least the basics of how to fight. She wasn't very good, her body too slight to pull most hand-to-hand moves; and the number of sword, axes, spears and maces that the Aesir favored were all too heavy for her to wield. And then she met Gorsimi; short in stature, with blue eyes and brown hair, she was the youngest-looking Valkyrie and one of the few who hadn't joined the teams out hunting the Enchantress sisters. Most of the time she used a long staff to fight, though her actual main weapon, as Helena learnt (and one few had ever seen her use it and lived to tell about it) was a string of golden beads wrapped in a chain around her wrist. She got Helena a similar chain and taught her how to use it, until the young princess was as good.

Helena also had certain advantages, as she could infuse the beads with magic, allowing her to slash or seize as she chose. It made her proud to be able to fight on her own. Her parents too were proud of her, not because she was a warrior-lady exactly; but because she'd achieved what she wished for, no matter how hard it might have seemed at one point.

Tinúviel was beyond the halfway point in her pregnancy when something else unexpected happened: a magik storm.

Magik storms were one of the most disastrous, and justly feared phenomenons in Asgard, and with good reason. There were enough sorcerers in the Realm Eternal, especially ones with more power than control (or training). Loki, being one of the two most powerful spell-weavers in the realm (the other being the Queen), was usually the one to go and get things back under control; most of the time with Tinúviel accompanying him, ready to put her healing gift to good use. However, with Tinúviel so far into her pregnancy and the threat of the Enchantress sisters still out there, it was decided that it was a bad idea for her to go.

"I don't need to go..." Loki told his wife quietly.

"Yes, you do." She cut him off. "The Aesir need you. They depend on you to help them from disasters such as this, my love. You're a good prince, a dependable one. Now go. Helena and I will be right here when you come back."

"I will take good care of her." The younger princess assured her father.

"I know you will." Loki nodded.

He didn't like it, that much was obvious, but she knew his match was right, and so he went to deal with the magik storm and its consequences.

Tinúviel and Helena, on the other hand, took for the little family's private garden, in hopes of some privacy and quality time. And they got it. The she-elf sat on a bench, with her back against the huge white-ash tree (grown from a sapling of the very tree in her old sanctuary in Alfheim); with her daughter curled up against her side, one hand softly caressing her mom's distended stomach, chasing the marks left by her unborn sister's hands and feet.

"Nana..." The girl murmured after what seemed like forever.

"Yes, cala amin (my light)?" The mother whispered back, one hand soothingly carding through her daughter's long hair.

"Tell me about winiseler (little sister), Nana, please." Helena asked.

Tinúviel smiled a beatific smile as she brought forward the image in her head, the dream picture she kept seeing since first becoming aware of her second pregnancy.

"She's small." The mother began the explanation. "Smaller than either you or your Adar, even smaller than I am now. Her skin is a soft cream, just like yours, her eyes are big and reflect the forest perfectly, in a mix of brown and a hint of green; her hair is long and straight like your father's, a mix of browns and reds and golden, like the petals of the most perfect, amazing flower. And she walks around in an off-white dress, with a green sash." She placed a kiss on Helena's hair. "She's beautiful and perfect, just like you."

"What will her name be?" The daughter asked, interested.

"I... I don't know." The she-elf hesitated.

"Nana..." Helena did not ask questions, just waited.

"She reminds me so much of my big sister, of Merilwen..."

"Rose... That's what meril means, right Nana?"

"Yes, rose..."

"A perfect flower... it would be a perfect name for winiseler (little sister)..."

"Meril Lokidottir... yes, that is a perfect name indeed."

"Sing for me Nana, please."

"What would you like me to sing, cala amin (my light)?"

"Anything Nana."

Tinúviel needed only a few seconds to make up her mind. Most of her songs were dedicated to her match; though a handful of times before her songs had been meant for others, the memory of her sister, her mother, the feeling deep inside that something was coming her way. It wasn't that hard, with her mind focused completely on Helena, for a new song to come from her lips:

"In my daughter's eyes I am a hero
I am strong and wise and I know no fear
But the truth is plain to see
She was sent to rescue me
I see who I wanna be
In my daughter's eyes..."

"In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal
Darkness turns to light and the world is at peace
This miracle God gave to me

Gives me strength when I am weak
I find reason to believe
In my daughter's eyes..."

The moment Helena realized her Mama was singing a song about her (and, in a way, probably about the newly named Meril too), she burrowed deeper into Tinúviel's embrace, allowing the love to wash over her, enveloping her like the warmest and fluffiest of blankets; giving her the opportunity to relax in a way she hardly ever did. She was safe in that moment, safer than she could be anywhere else, with anyone else; and it was all because she was in her mama's arms.

"And when she wraps her hand around my finger
Oh it puts a smile in my heart
Everything becomes a little clearer
I realize what life is all about."

"It's hangin' on when your heart has had enough
It's giving more when you feel like giving up
I've seen the light
It's in my daughter's eyes..."

They just laid there, for what seemed like forever: Tinúviel singing, and the birds around her in the garden accompanying her melody in a most beautiful way; and in that moment, holding one daughter in her arms while the other rested inside her own body, the once-almost-Queen, felt the happiest she had ever been. That was who she was, who she was always meant to be; where she was in that moment was where she was always meant to be. She wondered if her own mother had known, if that was why she warned her about the future and Alfheim's crown... she could only hope her Naneth (Mother) knew how happy she was, how perfect her life was in that moment...

"In my daughter's eyes I can see the future
A reflection of who I am and what will be
And though she'll grow and someday leave
Maybe raise a family
When I'm gone I hope you'll see

How happy she made me
For I'll be there
In my daughter's eyes..."

xXx

Things couldn't stay perfect forever, and they'd all known that already. Which is why it was no surprise when the alarm rang in the palace. Thor and Odin reacted immediately, calling to the Royal Guard and getting ready for action, even as they sent Queen Frigg and her handmaidens to safety, deep in the Royal Wing. Tinúviel and Helena for their part had been on the far edge of the castle grounds, with the daughter practicing some magic to keep herself busy, and distract the mother (it also somehow seemed to entertain the baby, as she moved less inside the she-elf when magic was being done around her).

"Nana!" Helena cried out the moment she heard the alarm.

"We gotta hurry!" Tinúviel replied.

There was no time to get to the main rooms of the palace but, thankfully, there was no need either. Instead the two women slipped inside through a side-door, quickly finding their way to the servants' levels. A number of handmaidens found them there.

"Princess Tinúviel, Princess Helena!" A number of handmaidens called the moment they saw the two royals hurrying their way.

They were directed into the handmaidens' wing right away. There Helena was talked by the Head Handmaiden into changing her favorite blue gown for a steel-gray dress, identical to the ones the other handmaidens were wearing. That, at least, would serve as a measure of protection for the young daughter of Loki. Nothing could be done to hide Tinúviel, not with her pregnancy there for all to see; and she knew that.

Still, there they sat all of them; Helena sitting among the handmaidens, and all of them in a circle around their crown-princess. They could hear the echo of battle in the distance; at times getting dangerously close; enough none of them dare even suggest going out, looking for the Queen or anyone else to help them.

At some point they could hear no more, it was as if the battle had gotten far away enough there was no more danger nearby. It was what Tinúviel thought, at least, until she felt a mighty kick inside her stomach. It seemed Meril strongly disagreed with her... and then it happened. The doors to the main room, where a handful of handmaidens remained, was forcefully opened by a rushing royal guard.

"Run...!" He began, before a sickening gurgle cut him off.

Shrieks echoed all around when the handmaidens saw him fall, a thin knife stuck in his throat. And the one to throw it stepped into the room right then: it was none other than Amora.

The handmaidens' reaction was instantaneous, and almost instinctive even. Regardless of how terrified they might be, they each still stood their ground, forming a barrier between the insane Enchantress and their elven princess, Helena standing proudly among them.

It wasn't to last. Amora was beyond reasoning, her state worse than the last time Tinúviel had seen her. She laughed at the handmaidens before, with a wave of her hands, she sent them flying, making them crash against walls and furniture; more than half of them lost consciousness right away, and there was no doubt there would be some injuries (bruises, scratches, possibly even a couple of more serious ones like twisted joints or a broken bone).

"La (No)!" The she-elf cried out in her mother language, as worried for every handmaiden as she was about her own daughter.

The moment Amora turned in her direction, the princess reacted. It was more instinct that any reasoned move as she raised her bow, notched and arrow and let it fly. It was also pointless; while still absolutely insane, the enchantress had certainly learnt from her past mistakes. She did not allow the bolt to get anywhere near her before destroying it; then her next spell turned the bow, still in Tinúviel's hand into pieces, It hurt, but the she-elf refused to give her crazy enemy the satisfaction of so much as seeing her wince.

"I will destroy you, meddlesome princess." Amora practically spat as she stalked in the direction of Tinúviel. "I will destroy you utterly and completely. Then I will have Thor for myself, and my life will be perfect, just as it was meant to be!"

The Ljósálfar could do nothing but back away. She hated it, hated being defenseless. She had promised never to allow herself to be so vulnerable; yet she had no weapons anymore, and her state made hand-to-hand impossible if she wanted to keep her baby as safe as she could. Though with how crazy Amora was, she just didn't think that would remain an option for long.

She was right.

Tinúviel did not know what happened exactly, she probably never would. One moment Amora was moving in her direction, stalking her, like a predator. One moment the Enchantress was raising a hand, an odd dark glow about it, sparking, like black lightning... and the next all the princess knew was pain and dizziness. A scream echoed around her, and only belatedly she realized it was herself screaming.

The world around her faded out, and everything became but snapshots in her mind: Helena's hysterical wail for her mother, her desperate cry for her father... and suddenly Loki was there, attacking Amora with a viciousness no one had seen before, no one would have believed him capable of... until Helena's second cry reminded him what was truly important.

Tinúviel recovered consciousness of self enough to feel the moment when Helena's magic connected with her, just seconds before her eldest daughter cried out in pain.

"C-ala!" Tinúviel croaked out in panic.

Loki was beside them in an instant, bloodied knives in his hands; though he dropped them the moment he saw the state of his family.

"Beloved..." He began, before noticing something else. "Helena, sweet-heart!"

It took everything the she-elf had to open her eyes, though the horror in her husband's voice was enough to push her to try. What she found was enough to make her whine, like she never had before. Her daughter, her beautiful, perfect daughter, was hurt. It was as if parts of her skin had been burnt, one of her hands was almost completely black, and even her face was affected.

"I was just trying to help Nana!" Helena cried out in despair.

"Oh my love..." Tinúviel moaned, horrified.

To think that her darling daughter was suffering for trying to help her...

"Oh Norns!" Thor's cry could be heard at the entrance of the room. "What happened here?!"

"I knew something was wrong, I knew it..." Loki muttered angrily, mostly to himself. "I felt the moment the magik storm began, yet once I got there it was much smaller than it should have been. I didn't understand why..."

He roared his fury, even as both Tinúviel and Helena understood. Amora had caused the magik storm; and not just that, she had somehow siphoned a good deal of the wild power, causing that odd magic the she-elf had seen; and had used it against the princess... It was why Tinúviel felt so much pain, from the inside; the magik storm hurting her from the inside out; just like it'd hurt Helena when she tried to interfere. Just...

"NO!" Tinúviel's wail was enough to freeze everyone's blood.

Loki turned to her, intent on demanding what was going on, when he realized it; it was there in the endless pain in his wife's eyes... in the blood beneath her hips... and the loss of a presence against his own soul and heart...

Their unborn daughter was gone... Meril was dead.

The 'magik storm' had consumed Loki's magic inside Tinúviel faster that it could be restored; the very magic the baby needed to exist. Meril did not have a chance... and neither did Tinúviel. The magik storm was still inside her, tearing her apart little by little.

Helena's pained whine was enough to make the she-elf focus again. Her eldest daughter... her only daughter was still in pain, she needed help! It took her no time to realize that while very little of the 'curse' had actually touched her, it was still doing a lot of damage, and would continue doing so, unless something was done about it.

"Loki!" Tinúviel practically screeched through her pain. "Get her out of here. To safety!"

And as much as the prince hated to leave his wife's side when she was in such a condition, he knew as well as she did that if he did not do something soon, their daughter wouldn't stand a chance. It took no time to decide. He took Helena into his arms and dropped into the shadows beneath them without a word. Even as they went the sorcerer knew he needed to get her to a more spiritual realm, the kind where time didn't pass the same, where it wasn't as relevant. Only then would the effect of the curse stop enough to give them the chance to pull it out of Helena before she was permanently harmed.

They made it to the realm of Helheim with little effort, and while Loki had half a mind to stay and begin helping his daughter right away. Helena herself ordered him away; he needed to stay with her mother, he needed to be there if... deep down the young princess knew there was no 'if' about it, but admitting that she was about to lose her mother, that she had already lost her just hurt so much...

Loki, for his part, got back in Asgard to see what looked like half a dozen healers, Lady Eir and his own mother included, rushing around, trying by all means to save Tinúviel. But it was to no avail. Even with the Queen they could only drain the curse a little at a time, and nowhere near fast enough; and then there was all the blood from her involuntary miscarriage. She was bleeding too much, Loki knew that without need to be told, no individual of any race could be expected to survive such level of trauma.

And in the end Loki was right, nothing could be done, nothing but try and make Tinúviel comfortable in her last moments, it wouldn't be long.

So everyone was sent out of the room. Tinúviel was laid in a bed, where Loki laid beside her, holding her as close as he dared, afraid of hurting her any further. But she did not care anymore. She held onto him with all the strength she had in her failing limbs.

"Helena...?" She croaked.

"Safe." Loki answered quietly. "In Helheim. I will go back... later. I will make sure she's alright. I just... Tinúviel... my love..."

"It's alright my love, I understand." She whispered back at him.

It took a great effort, but she managed to raise her hand to his match's cheek. Who then held her hand against his face, unwilling to let it go, to let her go.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered.

And she was, so, so sorry... she never wanted to let him go... but it wasn't in her power.

"Not your fault." He replied, and she could hear the self-loathing there.

"Not your fault either." She whispered back.

He nodded, though it was obvious he did not believe her. He would always feel that he'd failed her. It would seem that he was never there when she needed him most; and while in the past he'd been lucky, very much so, not this time. He was losing her, and there was nothing he could do.

"If you listen to the wind..." Tinúviel tried to sing, but it was hard, too much pain inside her.

"You don't need to do that." Loki told her softly, pained.

"Yes, I do." She replied slowly, carefully. "I... I don't want y...you to remember me like this w... when I'm gone. So..." She took a deep breath. "So close your eyes a-and just liste...n."

Loki didn't like her resignation, but at the same time knew there was no point in holding onto his denial. There was nothing he wouldn't give her in that moment; so he did as asked and closed his eyes, forcing his mind to bring up the image of her as she'd been when he'd left intent on helping the Aesir with the magik storm, when she'd been so radiant, so absolutely beautiful...

It would be impossible to know where exactly Tinúviel found the strength to truly sing, but she did, even if it was just a few lines. She died as she'd lived, loving and smiling and singing...

"If you listen to the wind you can hear me again
Even when I'm gone you can still hear the song
High up in the trees as it moves through the leaves
Listen to the wind, there's no end to my..."

Her voice was lost then, and with it all of her... and Loki's own heart and soul...

xXx

The funeral of Princess Tinúviel, wife of Loki, gathered people from more than half of the realms in Yggdrasil. All of them mourning for a girl that had crossed barriers of space, time, race, realm, tradition... the Queen-candidate who'd given up a throne for love, who'd gone on to prove to all the realms what she was made of, alongside her husband, her match.

Following Asgardian tradition (and her own wishes), Tinúviel was cremated, her ashes scattered on the very edge of the Rainbow Bridge, allowing her earthly remains to reach the stars, just like she'd always wished.

Many things happened that day that no one would ever forget. Like the Valkyrie Lady Ylva, standing in a pale-blue dress and a crimson cloak with the hood down (and therefore the spell), blonde hair arranged with thin, elegant braids (though most of it stayed down), feet bare; and behind her, from the forest, came the howling of a wolf in mourning. Sif, Goddess, of War, for the first time ever in a dress herself, a white dress (for it was elven tradition), with no adornments on her. Both of them wore crowns of dark crimson roses for mourning.

Everyone could notice the absence of the youngest princess of Asgard: Helena. And rumors were running rampant that she was either dead too, or dying. Only a few knew where she was, why, and the reason why she couldn't return yet (no one knew when she might be able to).

Yet the one things that people would remember most would be, without a doubt, the moment when Prince Loki of Asgard drop to his knees before his wife's, his beloved match's pyre and after a wordless cry, began singing, voice full of so much pain everyone could feel it tearing at their hearts, at the core of their very souls, the pain of a love, of a life, of forever, lost...

"Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought they never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again..."

That was as far as Loki got before the grief became too much, before the pain made him lose himself, in more ways than most could ever possibly comprehend.

He left the funeral so abruptly, right after the ashes had been scattered, that his closest friends: Sif, Erynion, and his own brother Thor, couldn't help but hurry looking for him. They found him in his garden, or what remained of it, half of it already destroyed to the prince's wild magic.

It was until they were all inside the garden itself that they noticed one more detail: the fact that most of the destruction had been caused by ice... And not only that Loki himself was blue, the clothes on him half frozen, and his eyes were red on black...

Sif's loud exhalation was what finally called the sorcerer's attention to the newcomers' presence. Thor could see a flash of shock and panic in his eyes before it vanished into the void that had settled on his face since the passing of his wife.

"Ready to kill me now, my friend?" Even the sarcasm that should have drowned Loki's words as he said that was absent, nothing but tiredness in his voice.

"Brother!" Thor was horrified at the mere idea.

They had already lost Tinúviel... how could they even think of losing him too?!

"You would actually be doing me a favor, you know?" Loki added, nonplussed.

The sound of the violent contact of flesh on flesh, caused by Sif slapping Loki hard enough to turn his head around, broke through everyone's shock.

"Don't you dare say something so stupid!" Sif practically screamed into Loki's face. "I already lost a friend! Do you want me to lose another?! Helena already lost her mother and baby-sister, and you would take her father from her as well?!"

Not a word was said, though ever so slowly they could all see as Loki's blue skin reverted back to alabaster, his eyes bleeding back to their normal emerald; and once the change was over he collapsed, straight into Sif's arms, heaving sobs shaking his whole body. And Sif held him, as tightly as she could (and downright ignoring the frostbite burn on her hand).

Erynion didn't say a word, he only watched the scene in silence, even as he couldn't help but think that as noble and understandable as Sif's statements might be, she had not yet taken in consideration one key element: the match-bond between Tinúviel and Loki. As surprising as it was that the Aesir (or was it Jotun?) prince hadn't fallen with his beloved, there was just no way the bond would allow him to survive as he was. It was no longer a matter of 'if', but of 'when'; with Tinúviel gone, Loki was as good as dead.

xXx

Erynion was right in some ways, yet wrong in others. Loki did not die, not physically at least, but he did lose himself in every way that counted.

It began slowly at first. A hard word here, a violent reaction there, a careless spell elsewhere. It began as responses to what he saw as insults against him and his match (some of which were, while others were nothing but innocent comments), and went from there. From harmless pranks to vicious ones, until there were more people being hurt than there were laughing. And whenever Loki was called on to answer for his actions, his answers were harsh, dark, vitriol coming from his mouth in the same ways love and songs once had. The most noticeable though, was how he never gave a straight answer, always twisting words around in such a way that he ended dealing insult to anyone and everyone, himself included.

The breaking point came when one of the 'pranks' caused a mess in one of the training grounds, a number of aspirants to the royal guard in the healing ward and Fandral with a new scar on the very edge of his hairline (a bit more to the other side and it would have taken his eye). And it all began because Fandral had commented on Helena's scars.

It was the other part of everything. Helena was all Loki had left, as far as the younger prince of Asgard was concerned; and she hadn't been left unaffected by the events of that day. It had taken some time, but eventually, between Loki and his mother they'd managed to extract all the foreign magic that had been hurting the young princess; however, there was no way of taking away the burn-like scars that it had caused, and which covered almost fifty percent of her body. Most were not too noticeable, unless one was paying very close attention; though there were some, like the dark one in one of her hands, and a thick twisted line that covered one cheek, temple and even pulled a little at her mouth, making it as if she were always on the edge of grimacing. Some of her hair had been affected too, and one eye.

Some people couldn't help but comment on it. On how the young lady most had been so sure would be named Goddess of Beauty, was so scarred, her very skin carrying a reminder of the tragedy that broke her family apart. It was such comments that hurt Helena the most; and it was also such comments that brought out Loki's cruelest side. Fandral was really just the latest in a long line of such 'occurrences'.

"You need to let him go..." Erynion said, for the umpteenth time since everything had started.

They were gathered together in that moment, the royal family of Asgard, Sif, Erynion and Thenidiel (who'd recently ascended to the post of second in the coven, and was rumored to be candidate to lead it one day).

"What?!" Thor was livid at the mere idea.

"I know you don't like it." Erynion went on. "And I don't enjoy the idea either, but don't you see? Loki is practically begging you to let him go."

"I'm not killing my brother!" The blonde prince almost roared. "Or letting anyone else do it. I... we already lost Tinúviel and her baby, we're not losing him too!"

"But don't you see?" Erynion insisted. "He's not really living anymore!"

"It's what happens in a match." Thenidiel said quietly. "One cannot live without the other, in an instinctive level, they do not want to. It's like... their souls were connected, always touching each other, and now the princess is gone. Prince Loki's soul keeps reaching for hers, wanting it and her back, but she's not there anymore. The void is slowly taking over... What's he's doing right now... Erynion is right, it's a plea, in many ways, for you to let him go, to let him follow her. And until you do so, it will keep getting worse. Until the day you will have no other option."

"He's going insane." Sif added, in a low, hard voice that showed how much it cost her to even admit that much.

The Queen didn't say anything, she just cried; then again, she knew about matches, probably better than anyone else in the room, she knew the elves, and Sif were all right. Loki could not exist without his beloved, it simply wasn't possible; and the longer they took to accept it, the more her son would hurt. And yet, even as she admitted that to herself, Frigg just couldn't bring herself to let him go. He was her son, how could she ever say goodbye to him?

Helena did not say a word. She knew her parents well. They'd both told her everything about matches, its risks and wonders. It had been in preparation, as they'd been closed to reaching the century mark in their union, and once they had their bond would have finished settling, making it so they were forever one soul in two bodies; where one went the other would be able to do nothing but follow. In life and death... If she was honest with herself, the princess had just been waiting for that moment. She knew how much her father hurt, it was there in his eyes, whenever he looked at the stars, at the remains of his garden (no one had dared do anything to help restore it just yet), and, most hurtful of all, whenever he looked at her.

"So, are we doing this now then?" A low voice with an edge on it suddenly spoke.

Everyone turned abruptly to find none other than Loki himself standing in a corner of the room. They hadn't been expecting that.

"Should I offer you one of my own blades or would you rather use your own?" The raven-haired prince drawled, voice filled with sarcasm, yet his eyes completely devoid of anything.

"We're not killing you!" Thor practically roared his denial. "You're not dying brother!"

"Don't you get it?!" Loki fixed his dead-looking eyes on the blonde. "It's what I want! I want you to kill me! Release me from this life, from the torment that is living without my Tinúviel, without my match!"

"No, my son..."

No one was expecting those words to come from the mouth of Odin Allfather himself, or the moment when Loki dropped to the marble floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

"What did you do, father?!" Thor cried out even as he rushed to his brother's side.

"I'm going to save my son." Odin stated even as he rose from his throne.

"How?" Erynion had a feeling he really wasn't going to like the answer.

"By making him forget what's hurting him." Odin answered simply.

"What?!" The answer was the same from almost everyone.

"You cannot do that!" Erynion's enraged voice rose above everyone else's. "You cannot make him forget his match! Doing that... it would be like killing her all over again!"

Several people in the room grimaced at that, and even Odin seemed taken aback for a moment, though it was not enough to make him change his mind.

"Him not remembering won't stop others from saying things..." Sif began, trying to make her King see reason.

"Then I shall make everyone forget!" Odin announced authoritatively.

The Ljósálfar were left speechless at that declaration.

More things were probably said, arguments made, but they were all irrelevant in the end. Odin Allfather had made up his mind, and nothing would make him change it. In his mind, he'd already lost nearly half of his family, and he wasn't losing anyone else, especially not his son...

And so it happened that Loki Odinson, and everyone else in Asgard forgot that the prince had ever had a wife; all they remembered of Lady Tinúviel was that she'd been an elven princess with the most beautiful voice in all the realms...

Erynion and Thenidiel were completely indignant and infuriated by the Asgardian King's decision and refused to have anything to do with it; which, in turn, meant they would have little to do with the Realm Eternal for many years yet.

Helena, for her part, the spell did not work on her, her magic wouldn't allow it. She stayed close to her father for a while; until the pain of seeing the odd void fill his eyes whenever he looked at her became too much, then she chose to go. She left all behind, her old life, old dresses (she only wore black, her own way of mourning the mother and sister she'd lost to death, and the father that still lived but was just as lost, to her and himself both), even her old name for she was no light, not anymore, no longer Helena... Instead she was Lady Hel, Goddess of Grief. She returned to Helheim, where her power surpassed that of anyone else in the realm. It took some time but eventually she managed to put order to the place, an order like there had never been before; and it was that which earned her the title of Queen Hel, of Helheim.

And Loki moved on, as the years went on, always feeling an emptiness deep in his heart and soul, yet never knowing why... until the day he carelessly stepped out of the Shadow Plane and into Midgard, into a garden already occupied, by a precocious child with auburn hair, hazel eyes and a fascination with songbirds...

xXx xXx xXx

Thin rays of sunlight managed to slip inside the otherwise dark bedroom in between the thick drapes that covered the crystal doors leading to the wide balcony, its light giving shades of dark-gold, liquid honey and firey red to the dark-auburn hair of the woman laying on the bed, curled up tightly into the chest of the man beside her, whose own raven-black hair almost sparkled under the rays of the same son.

Ever so slowly the two woke up, a part of their minds still half lost to the images they'd been going through during the night, the memories of a life long ago lived... and forgotten.

"A'maelamin..." Loki whispered huskily, reaching a hand to his beloved's face.

"Fintalëharyon (trick-prince)..." She replied in a whisper.

The nicknames, both new and old depending on how one saw things, helped settle something inside each of them; as they laid quietly in their bed, allowing their minds to finish waking up, their senses to return them to the current time: where she was no longer the elven-born princess Tinúviel, but the human-born Lady Nightingale (which, in the end, amounted to the same thing); and he... he was still Loki, still a prince of Asgard, and still married to his perfect match and the love of his existence.

So much had happened since she'd last been Tinúviel, since the tragic loss of her life, and Loki's own loss in many ways... but she'd returned, to life and to him; and regardless of how hard things might have gotten at times, they were together, alive and happy, nothing could ever be more important than that.

"Hákon!" Was the next word to leave the reincarnated princess's lips as she sat up quick enough she almost dropped back, dizzy.

"Easy, love..." Loki sat up beside her, holding his wife until the dizziness subsided. "He's alright..." He shifted as he became aware of something else. "Our daughter is here..."

His statement made her react without her being fully conscious of it. The woman had barely enough thought to pull the dressing-gown over her thin nightclothes before leaving the bedroom, feet bare and with no thought for the quite cold floor beneath her (not that it affected her really, or that she truly noticed it). She didn't even pay any attention to her husband, hurrying after her; all thoughts on one single person:

And there she was: lithe figure, porcelain skin unblemished but for the scars consequence of the same curse that had taken her life so many years before, hair black like a raven's wing in perfect curls, cascading down her back; blue-green eyes, shadowed by long-standing pain, though she still smiled at the kid (black hair, blue eyes) sitting on her lap, playing a simple but seemingly very entertaining game with their hands...

"Helena..." The reincarnated princess breathed out the moment her eyes laid on her.

The black-haired woman's head raised abruptly, green eyes meeting hazel ones. For a second, not a word was spoken. Hákon called to the older woman, to his Mama, but it would be impossible to know if any of them heard him; though Loki certainly approached, lifting the boy into his arms before he could interrupt the moment; one he knew was completely needed by the two most important women in his life. Their whole attention was on each other, even without a single word being said, without any of them moving at all; as if a mere look were enough to say everything... or maybe Nightingale was just taking her daughter in, truly for the first time in so long... Even if the two had seen each other relatively recently, Hel hadn't been Nightingale's daughter back then, not until right then.

"Mama..." Hel murmured, before doing a double-take. "Did you just say...?"

"Helena..." Nightingale repeated, switching to elvish as she added: "Cala amin (My light)..."

"Nana!" The younger-but-older-looking woman cried out before throwing herself at her mom.

Both ended up sprawled on the floor, though neither of them truly minded; in that moment they were simply too happy to be with each other, to truly be embracing each other again to care about such details.

Conversation flowed, covering everything from the realization that Hel, Helena, had never forgotten the truth about her mom, that she'd known (or at least very strongly suspected) what was going on from the first time Loki had gone to Helheim looking for his daughter's assistance on saving his dear friend, Nightingale (after all, from the very start, Nightingale and Tinúviel meant the same, were the same).

Loki found great comfort in knowing that he hadn't always been a lousy father, and his daughter didn't blame him for the mistakes he'd made the last (too many) years. And then there was Nightingale's realization that Helena wasn't just her adopted daughter, but truly her daughter, hers in every way that mattered; just like Loki was her husband, her perfect love, in every time, every realm, every life...

The little family shared a very happy breakfast and after taking some time to themselves, decided it was time to 'face the music' so-to-speak. Nightingale put on the new dress her husband had had done for her: dark lavender gauzy fabric with cut-open short sleeves and a thick pale pink-lilac belt a silky semi-translucent wrap was wound around her back and arms; along with that were golden sandals and her only pieces of jewelry were the earrings, pendant, wedding-ring and tiara, same as always; auburn curls down, just like her match preferred (to be able to run his fingers through them). Loki made his own stand by putting aside his more common attire of green silk and black leather; and still dressing in the same fashion he had when he was much younger, back during the days of his marriage to Tinúviel, when he'd been happiest: a forest green linen tunic, black breeches, long leather open-vest and black riding boots; his long-ish hair carefully brushed but lose. Helena's choices were telling as well. Her choice was neither for the blue or green gowns she'd favored in her youth, nor the black she'd been wearing for more than a hundred years, her own way of mourning, and part of what hd earned her the title of Goddess of Grief. Her choice of dress was an off-white and silver silk piece, floor-length, with a square-neckline and long, wide illusion sleeves and silver low-heels. Finally, Hákon was dressed in his favorite dark-brown pants, sea-green shirt with the sleeves rolled up and brown small boots. He looked quite dashing, and there was not a doubt in anyone's mind that he would be quite a dashing man when he grew up.

The moment the little family set foot in Asgard again, it was like entering a whole new Realm Eternal. At first Nightingale thought it was just her, that gaining so many years worth of memories (though many of them were still rearranging themselves in her mind, slowly) was affecting her perception of things; and then Heimdall went to greet them.

"Princess Tinúviel..." He murmured, bowing his head respectfully at her.

"Nightingale is still just fine, Heimdall." The reincarnated princess assured him, reminding the Gatekeeper of the odd friendship they'd struck in the years since her arrival to Asgard after her (second) death. "It means the same, and it's still me."

"Of course, princess Nightingale." He nodded, still stoic (though he relaxed minutely).

"Ah... is Er... Lord Erynion still here?" She hesitated just a second before asking.

"Yes, my lady." Heimdall nodded. "The Queen convinced him to stay one more day."

"She probably knew we would be coming." Loki shrugged behind her, they both knew enough of Lady Frigg's precognitive abilities.

"Indeed, my lord." The Gatekeeper agreed.

The second Asgardian prince shook his head at that but didn't say anything, instead he just helped his wife and children get on the horses. He remained just as silent as they rode down the Rainbow Bridge and through Asgard until one too many Aesir bowed to him (to all of them) as they rode past... he lost it shortly before they reached the palace.

"What in the abyss is wrong with these people?!" He snapped, mindfully keeping hold on his son, sitting before him. "They've hated me for the better part of the last millennia... and suddenly everyone's looking at me like... like... like I'm Thor!"

"Nonsense." His match snorted, unable to help herself. "They're not looking at you like you're anyone but yourself, my love. They're just finally seeing you..."

"When the huge spell was cast all those years ago, it wasn't just you that forgot, Ada." Helena explained. "Everyone in Asgard did. It was necessary to keep you safe. Only, it seems that forgetting all about Nana also meant forgetting why you did certain things... including those you did while driven by pain and grief..."

"Everyone thought I was just crazy, or evil..." Loki mumbled, mostly to himself.

"They didn't understand anymore." Helena tried to make him understand.

"And now they suddenly do?" He still wasn't buying it.

"I think that the potion you said Grandma gave you woke more than just your memories and Nana's..." The young Queen of Helheim offered, thoughtful.

"You think everyone else remembers now too..." Nightingale breathed out in wonder.

The prospect left the former she-elf absolutely breathless; even as her mind fought to deal with the implications of that. The possibility of getting back even more of her old life, not only her husband and daughter but the rest of their family, her dearest friends, like Sif and...

"Does that mean...?" Her throat seemed to close at the mere thought in her head. "Erynion...?"

"He's never forgotten Nana, none of the Ljósálfar ever did." Her daughter said quietly. "They never agreed with Grandfather's decision to use that spell... Wanted nothing to do with it. It's why Asgard's relations with Alfheim have been so delicate in the last nine centuries."

It was regretful, truly, but maybe her return (truly, after having recovered her memories) would help on that front. In any case, the Ljósálfar would no longer believe her Maverick to be an Oahtbreaker, or a Betrayer, after all, he wasn't really cheating o her, she was his wife, his match, had always been.

They talked some more, mainly about the people they were hoping to see again, like Erynion and Sif, their dearest friends. Nightingale couldn't help but regret the fact that her beloved hadn't only lost her and their unborn child, after tragedy struck but, one way or another, he'd lost his friends too. Ending up so terribly alone for the longest time. At least they'd gotten another chance...

And just like that Skye's words rang inside her head:

"...you got another chance... like one lifetime wasn't enough... so you got another one..."

Another chance indeed, and not just for the two of them, but for all. Family, friends, love...

When the little family first stepped into the palace, not a word was spoken, everyone present just looking at each other in tense silence until... motion. It was Sif who moved, in a matter of instants she was in Loki's arms, holding him tightly before anyone could say a word.

"You idiot!" She shrieked at him a second later, smacking him in the back of the head.

"Good to see you too Sif..." The trickster quipped with a smirk.

"It feels like its been so long, yet I saw you just a fortnight ago..." The raven-haired goddess of war mumbled, finally turning to look at the reincarnated princess.

"Imagine how we feel." Nightingale deadpanned.

Were anyone to ask the reincarnated she-elf she would tell them, quite honestly, that her head was still spinning. She was also quite sure that were she still human she'd have gone crazy already; after all, how could a human ever deal with memories of two separate lifetimes; and that was without taking in consideration everything that had happened to her in the hundred-twenty-something years she'd lived... the horrible way in which she'd died... and even what her beloved had done afterwards. She didn't actually know much of that, only in very general terms, but she knew it had been bad; and would have been even worse if the Allfather hadn't done what he did, in the end. So while most probably didn't like it, and might not understand it, Nightingale was, in a way, thankful for the choices the King of Asgard had made.

"You know." Sif suddenly. "I do like my black hair... even if I've been unfairly harsh to you regarding it... I cannot believe I forgot why it ever came to be."

"A great many things were forgotten." Loki agreed. "By all of us."

It was amazing truly, for two such close friends like them, to think how far apart they'd become, to the point of being downright cruel to one another at times. And yet, once Nightingale had been in the picture, even before the return of the memories, they'd fallen straight back into the old ways, the old friendship.

A minute or two passed, with everyone just basking in each other's presence and in the returned memories. Most were beginning to believe Nightingale would never let go of her family again (her hands entwined with those of her husband and daughter), until her eyes landed on the figure standing in the far en of the room, half hidden behind a column; long black hair, deep blue eyes and elegant gray elven robes... she knew instantly who he was, and the part of her consciousness that had woken along with the memories of the life as Tinúviel pushed her into finally letting go of two of her loved ones to run and throw herself into the arms of the first man she'd ever called brother (long before ever meeting Thor).

"Toron (Brother)!" She cried out in obvious delight, embracing him as tightly as she could.

"Tinúviel..." He breathed out, holding her just as tight. "Seler amin (sister mine)..."

"Princess..." He heard another voice, right behind him.

Blonde, light-blue eyed, in her usual white, it took the reincarnated but a second to recognize Thenidiel. And as their eyes met, more memories of the she-elf filled her conscious mind: a spell-weaver, back then Lady Santiel's apprentice, though always meant to be the successor as leader of the coven... just as she was always meant to be Erynion's match. No words needed to be said there, Nightingale was happy for them and Thenidiel knew it. They truly deserved each other. And the spell-weaver had waited long enough for the Lord Protector to see her. A part of the reincarnated princess was sad she hadn't been there to see it, to be a witness at their bonding; another could only be happy they had gotten their chance, no matter how or when it had happened. Thenidiel had waited long enough for her oblivious brother to go beyond duty and tradition and truly see her.

"Tinúviel..." Another called then.

It was Odin, staring at the human-born princess like he'd never seen her before; and maybe that's what it felt like for him; for it hadn't only been others' memories that his choice and spell had taken, but even his own. Once again, memories rushed through her mind: The King's face the first time Loki had introduced her to his parents, the revelation of Loki's heritage, the Allfather's plan and how close it came to ruining them all... the day of their wedding.

She remembered the wedding songs, the beautiful piece her groom had sung, just for her, one of few times anyone had heard him sing (even Tinúviel herself). Thinking of that suddenly gave Nightingale a whole new understanding of Odin's attitude, of why he'd been so rattled when she'd sung that very song during the celebration for the victory against the Marauders. It had never been that the Aesir King hated her, or that he did not care... no, truth was he did care, so, so much... and most of the time he did not know how to show it (Understandable considering he'd had no one to show him how).

And the look of muted shock the man had given her after what she'd said in defense of Thor's and Jane's relationship; she could hardly believe that she'd used almost exactly the same words as when she'd been defending her own relationship with her match.

"Atar..." She addressed him by the most archaic form of 'Father' in elvish, just like she had in the past. "I am back..."

"The world brightens by your return, mine daughter." He nodded, joy in his eyes like no one had ever seen before, and then he turned to Loki and it only grew. "My son..."

Once again, the young princess allowed instincts to rule her as she rushed to her father-in-law and, ignoring all protocol, threw herself into his arms. The greater surprise for what few guards remained in the room wasn't that though (everyone had seen Nightingale doing seemingly crazy things enough times to no longer react to it), no, it was the moment Odin's expression softened into a soft, tender smile, at the same time his own arms wrapped around the small woman's form, embracing her tightly.

"My daughter..." He whispered into her hair. "My beautiful daughter."

People sometimes forgot the fact that Odin hadn't had any daughters, only sons... and as many doubts as he might have expressed regarding the match, he had truly loved Tinúviel like his own child. His doubts had never been about her as a person, or the love she and Loki shared; but Odin had never forgotten the Shadow-Walker, the absolute sadness in his eyes and in his every move, but mainly, the terrible emptiness in his eyes. It was a look he'd never wanted to see in the son of his heart. The son of his enemy, whom he'd gone against all his education and basic instincts to take in, and he'd never regretted it.

"I know why you did what you did, Atar..." The reincarnated princess whispered quietly into his ear. "You protected him when he couldn't protect himself, saved him even from himself. You gave him the means to hold on, gave me the chance to find him again... thank you..."

She knew he hadn't done it for her, no, he hadn't even known she would be coming back; he had not even done it for his wife, for as much as she might love Loki as well (and there was no doubt how much she loved him) she'd accepted the fact that he needed to do; no, all the things Odin had done, good and bad, he'd done out of his own love for Loki.

And maybe some things had gone very wrong because of that. Loki had forgotten the truth of his origins, the plan, and on the most basic level, how proud his father was of him, how much he was loved... that, among other things, had been behind the mess that had been Thor's near-coronation, followed by the mess in Jotunheim and everything else. But in the end they had been just honest mistakes, never intended to hurt Loki, or anyone else.

"Thank you..." She repeated.

"Thank you." The King said in return. "For coming back. For making our family whole again."

Nightingale smiled, kissing her father-in-law's cheek once before letting go of him, returning to her husband and children.

Jane Foster was the only one who probably didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on around her, but she would find out, eventually. In the meantime, she was just happy seeing all the people she cared about smiling once again.

xXx

The family talked about a great many things during that afternoon, though a great many more remained unsaid. There would be time. Nightingale knew it would take a while for all the memories of her life as Tinúviel to fit correctly inside her head, time she would have to learn more about the different parts of it.

A clear example was when she got the chance to talk with Erynion and Thenidiel about Hákon's mother. After all, Merenwen had been a princess, part of the most recent generation in Alfheim, and Elanor one of her handmaidens. The truest surprise was finding out Merenwen had hailed from Jewel Forest, and she had ancestors in common with Tinúviel (distant, but still).

There would be time to talk about other things. The most important part of all, the reconciliation among the members of their family, was done. Odin, Loki and Thor, all with their recently recovered memories, sat down and talked about the things that had happened in the last few years, and about the things that had happened over nine hundred years prior. Putting behind all the bad feelings that had been weighing them down for what seemed forever.

The funniest moment was when a small group of the Elders entered the Throne Room, wanting to know what was going on, why the Council session for that day had been cancelled without explanation, and the first thing they all saw was Princess Nightingale sitting practically on her husband's lap and being quite tender with him.

"Princess, have some sense of propriety!" A councilwoman chastised her sharply.

No one really expected the human-born princess to get flushed, embarrassed or anything; though the elders probably at least expected her to get off Loki's lap. She did none of that. Instead she settled more comfortably where she was (very purposefully, sending a private smirk to her match when hearing the sharp intake of breath from the councilwoman), before turning over her shoulder to look at her.

"With all due respect councilwoman..." Which, in that tone, meant none at all. "You are not the boss of me. You cannot command me, so you would do well to stop trying. Save your breath. This is my match, whom I love with everything I am, and if you don't like seeing me express that love, you can very well turn away."

"You used to be a lot more respectful, young-one." A male elder commented gruffly.

Nightingale's eyebrow arched elegantly (a gesture some began to realize came from her past life); she just focused on the fact that at least that Elder had known her as Tinúviel, and he'd probably just remembered that fact.

"I used to be a great many things, Elder." She told him calmly, though a bit more respectful than how she'd spoken to the woman. "Then I died..." She shook her head, sending love down her bond to her beloved to stave off the memory of his pain. "The stars have given me the greatest blessing with this second chance. So I hope you'll forgive me if I rather not waste it worrying about what might be or might not be proper."

To everyone's surprise, the Elder didn't seem angry at her words or tone, he didn't even look upset at all; he actually chuckled, very lightly, but still.

"Lord Frerin!" The councilwoman called, scandalized by his reaction. "You cannot tell me you find this funny. That impudent child..."

"That is Lady Nightingale, and she's your princess, Lady Vigdis, you would do well to remember that." The Elder chastised her. "She's also the reincarnation of Princess Tinúviel, from Alfheim and Asgard, a blessed healer and the Goddess of Compassion... and now Devotion as well."

The female elder, Lady Vigdis, could only stare in shock at her colleague, and the royal couple in turn, evidently having no words to express herself.

"My thanks, Lord Frerin." Loki nodded at the man, showing a level of respect he rarely did.

"It's good to see you back to who you used to be, Prince Loki... who you were always meant to be." The Elder added, before turning back to the princess. "I commend you for choosing to stand your ground, princess. I believe I would be the same if I got the chance to have my Deana back. If I had the chance to hold her in my arms again, I would hold nothing back..."

No one knew any Deana, but some instinctively realized he spoke about his wife, lost to him so long before neither of the young royals present had ever known her.

"Stars willing, one day you will get that chance." Nightingale told him kindly.

She truly believed that, for if she'd had the chance, why shouldn't everyone else? The stars (the spirits, God, a Higher Power, however one chose to see it) had been kind enough to her, to her family; why shouldn't others be as fortunate? She truly believed they would be, sooner or later. Just as she chose to believe that the Shadow Walker from the Allfather's story and his match had been reborn, found their peace, and each other; that one day Kontar and Sharifa too would get another chance, for a life together, a better one that the last one. She believed with all her heart that every person, in every realm, had the potential for perfect happiness, they just needed to fight for it. Just like she had. No matter how many difficulties came, how many dangers, her family was her perfect happiness, and they always would be.

The greatest thing, however, wasn't really about Loki and Nightingale; no. It was about Thor, and Jane Foster.

No one was expecting the moment when Odin turned away from his youngest son and his match, to face his oldest, and his own chosen intended.

"You claim to love her?" He asked with no preamble.

"I do, Father, like I've never loved another, like I shall never love again." Thor answered, full of sincerity and passion, a hand on Jane's own.

"And what about you, Jane Foster?" Odin asked next, turning to her.

Jane almost stepped back, almost, but in the last moment she managed to hold herself in place. She realized that there was a chance, one like she hadn't been expecting; none of them actually expected Odin to give her the opportunity to state her intentions, to earn herself a place. But maybe everything that had happened with Loki and Nightingale (which she still only half understood, a mess of past lives, death and reincarnation which was almost enough to give her a headache, and it did not even involve her!); maybe that was enough to make him turn kinder eyes upon her. After all, if one of his sons had done well enough with a human-born wife, why shouldn't his other do just as well?

"I..." For a moment Jane seemed to not know what to say, at all, until she just closed her eyes and let her heart speak for her (rather than her head). "I am a woman of science, Allfather. I do not consider myself very good when it comes to matters of the heart. In all my life I have loved exactly three men. The first was my father, who died when I was still very young, not quite a teenager yet; then there was a man who became like a second father to me, and whom even to this day I still care greatly for: Erik Selvig... your children know him." She made a pause before adding. "There was a time, before I met your oldest son, that I believed myself to be in love with a man. A doctor called Daniel Blake. I believed him to be a good man, I believed that he loved me, and for that I nearly married him."

"Did you not love him?" Sif had noticed something odd about Jane's choice of words.

"I cared about him." Jane said with some hesitation. "And... I think I was too afraid of ending up alone, as the years passed. There are not many women in my field of study, which makes it hard. And beyond the gender, the specific phenomenons I chose to study, the things I believed to be true, when I had not enough proof of anything... it made things harder. Made colleagues doubt me, even ridicule me. But I refused to back down, no matter how hard things got." She paused briefly. "Daniel came into my life at a point when I was touching bottom. I was near the end of my rope, having no idea how to prove what I knew to be right, I was beginning to fear I would be all alone, for the rest of my life. He was kind, charming and interested in me... I thought that was love. Or if not love, I at least thought it would be enough. Which is why I was considering it when he proposed to me."

"You were going to marry him?" Thor was in shocked at that.

"I did not love him." Jane hurried to clarify. "But, like I said, I was afraid of being alone, and I thought caring for him, feeling comfortable with him, would be enough."

"You were going to settle." Nightingale realized.

"Why didn't you marry him then?" Sif answered, noticing once again that things were missing.

"Because the day I went looking for him at the hospital where he worked, to surprise him and tell him my answer, I found him screwing one of the nurses in the break room." Jane deadpanned.

The language was a bit more crude than she usually preferred; but the mere memory of that event still angered her. Still, that was enough to make Thor react as he hurried to embrace his beloved.

"The bastard actually had the gall to say it was all my fault!" In the safety of Thor's arms Jane finally dared let it all out, like she never had before. "He said I was cold, and plain... he made it sound like he was doing me a favor by marrying me!"

Thor growled under his breath at that, and he wasn't the only one.

"You sent him away, I hope." Loki muttered, angered for his would-be-sister.

"I did." Jane nodded. "Though he kept going back, why he was so insistent, I don't know. He dropped by my trailer ever other week or so for months... Darcy actually chased him away a couple of times, threatening him with her taser when he got too insistent..."

Loki and Nightingale smirked in unison, that was Darcy! (Which also reminded them they needed to take care of things on that front... and that Thor was probably going to blow a gasket when he learnt the Son of Coul wasn't really dead...)

"Why not tell him not to come back?" Erynion inquired, confused.

"I..." Jane actually flushed, eyes to the ground as she admitted the truth. "I was too afraid of ending up alone, like he said I would. I didn't dare send him away for good, kept telling myself we might still make things work..."

"But you did not love him!" Sif did not understand.

"I did not." Jane nodded. "But I did not know if anything such as love, the love of a match, of lovers, actually existed. Like I said before, I am a woman of science, most of us don't really believe in things such as love..."

That left everyone completely speechless.

"What happened then?" Loki asked, intrigued.

"I was chasing storms one night when a man fell from the sky." Jane quipped with a lopsided grin, turning sly eyes at her beloved. "The next time Daniel visited I told him that if he returned one more time I would call the police."

For several seconds no one said a word, until Nightingale realized something.

"This happened right after Thor had left, once he recovered his powers, right?" She wanted to clarify first.

"Yes, that's correct." Jane nodded, wondering where the girl was taking it.

"You sent him away when there was no guarantee that Thor would ever return." Nightingale explained, to the others as much as to Jane herself. "You couldn't have known if you would ever have a chance to be together..."

"No." Jane nodded just slightly. "But I knew I loved him, and that was enough." He turned to look at her intended with eyes full of so much love the blonde prince of Asgard was breathless. "I knew love was true, and I loved him. Nothing Daniel could have offered me would ever compare. Nothing anyone else could have offered me would. Even if all I ever had was the memory of those few days, of that one kiss... I preferred it over settling down for anything else."

"You will never settle down, my Jane." Thor assured her, kissing her briefly but passionately. "Never. I will love you forever."

"I know." She nodded at him. "As I will love you." She turned back to the King then. "So you see, your Majesty. I know what it is to be with someone for the wrong reasons. And I know I'm with Thor for the right ones. I love your son, with everything I am, with an intensity I didn't believe myself capable of, that I didn't even believe existed, until I knew him. And even if all we'd ever had, was that short time, years ago, I wouldn't have regretted it..."

For a few seconds there was nothing but silence, and then...

"You will have more than just a few days." Odin announced then. "You both will." His face softened once again. "You have my blessing, Jane Foster, though you didn't really ask for it. You shall be my son's bride, and Asgard will take you as one of its own." His voice rose with power and authority as he added. "Welcome Jane Foster, Goddess of Science..."

Jane was left speechless, while Thor belatedly smiled, and then began spinning around, Jane in his arms as he laughed uproariously. Loki and Nightingale cheered, as delighted by the unexpected developments as their own brother. Those two truly deserved their happiness.

xXx

And so the afternoon gave way to night. Another feast, and there was much to celebrate: the return of one beloved princess, the reaffirmation of one love, a new chapter to an old legend... and the new (now official) betrothal, of Asgard's first prince and heir to the throne, to another human-born lady, and future goddess (she would only partake on Idunn's apples once the wedding had taken place).

And with a night of celebration eventually came, of course, much dancing, music, and song... By that point there was really no need for an introduction, everyone knew who the singing-princess was, and when the new song began, no one had any trouble guessing what and who she sung for:

"A thousand years, a thousand more,
A thousand times a million doors to eternity.
I may have lived a thousand lives, a thousand times
An endless turning stairway climbs to a tower of souls.
If it takes another thousand years, a thousand wars,
The towers rise to numberless floors in space.
I could shed another million tears, a million breaths,
A million names but only one truth to face..."

Nightingale knew that she and Loki weren't done with the reunions just yet, there were others that would need to take place eventually. The two of them needed to go see their adopted children: Sleipnir, Jormungandr, Fenrir, and then there was Ylva... to think that their daughter-in-law had been protecting her for over a year, and neither of them had been aware of their own connection. Hopefully they would get a chance to reclaim all that in the near future. Maybe if she caught the Allfather in enough of a good mood some day in the near future she (and Loki) might be able to convince him to release Fenrir once and for all; it had been a long time since the mess with Lady Idunn had taken place, and he and Ylva deserved to have a chance at new a life, and a family...

"A million roads, a million fears,
A million suns, ten million years of uncertainty.
I could speak a million lies, a million songs,
A million rights, a million wrongs in this balance of time.
But if there was a single truth, a single light,
A single thought, a singular touch of grace.
Following this single point, this single flame,
The single haunted memory of your face."

There was much that would need to be done. The royals and nobles of Asgard knew that Lady Nightingale and Princess Tinúviel were one and the same, and it was very likely that the rest of the Aesir, even those who hadn't met her all those years before, would know by the next day. But it wasn't only about them. Eventually other realms would need to be told, it might help foster better relationships, especially with the recent end of the conflict against the Marauders.

"I still love you...
I still want you...
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head."

And then there was Jotunheim. There had once been plans to make things better with the realm of the Eternal Winter... and with Laufey and Byleistr gone, and Helblindi on the throne maybe such a thing was possible. There was already a bond between Loki and his match, and the Jotun King, one that went beyond the two males sharing the same father, and it was in the little boy who called the to young royals Mama and Papa (even though a part of him still remembered they hadn't always been such).

Helblindi was nothing like Laufey or like Byleistr, he actually sought peace rather than war (as he himself had proven once in a tense conversation/argument with Nightingale herself). Maybe that would help, and they would be able to push through the thick of the Allfather's original plan, without Loki having to actually be the one to sit in the throne (he had no want for it, really).

"I may be numberless, I may be innocent,
I may know many things, I may be ignorant,
Or I could ride with kings and conquer many lands,
Or win this world at cards and let it slip my hands.
I could be cannon food, destroyed a thousand times,
Reborn as fortune's child to judge another's crimes,
Or wear this pilgrim's cloak, or be a common thief.
I've kept this single faith, I have but one belief."

Peace in Asgard, peace with other realms, maybe even in Midgard itself; because the reincarnated princess and her match still thought highly of the mortal realm, not just for the memory of their friends, or Nightingale's human life... but for all the friends they had made, all they both had seen and experienced there. All the family (of blood and vow) that still was there: like Aunt Kathryn, Darcy, the Son of Coul, Gwen, Peter, the rest of the Avengers and their own loved ones...

"I still love you...
I still want you...
A thousand times the mysteries unfold themselves
Like galaxies in my head.
On and on the mysteries unwind themselves
Eternities still unsaid
'Til you love me..."

For a thousand years the two of them had loved each other (regardless of names, positions, races or realms), through time and space, through life and death, on and on; theirs was an endless love; and they would continue loving each other, until the last star fell from the sky.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence, death, graphic injuries and miscarriage.

You know, I could have actually ended the series here (aside from the AUs, that is). As much drama as this was to write (and stars! This chapter was way more drama than I ever intended to write!). I think it would have been the perfect closure, everyone coming full-circle. Loki and his match together again, the family reconciled; and we go one step further by Thor finding his own match... but there's Captain America, and my muse won't shop up about him (and the Winter Soldier, and the mess that became SHIELD), she insists it's there turn so... (you get the idea what we're getting into in the next part... that and a number of crossovers... and talking about those, you're still in time to guess those, my offer from last chapter still stands).

Now on to some clarifications: The endearments the midgardians use are egyptian ones, from a website, I think they're in Arabic (not quite sure on that one). For those wondering what happened to Lorelei, she was eventually found by Sif, Ylva and their team of Valkyries and sent back to prison (this time in the dungeons of the palace) with the device that blocked her voice. Also, some might not understand why Loki could save Helena taking her to Helheim and not Tinúviel... keep in mind that the degree in which the curse affected each was very different. Also, Helena had magic of her own to somewhat protect her from the onslaught, Tinúviel did not.

The character of Gorsimi is based on Abby Miller, the girl from the Elektra movie (so you can picture her better), only sort of an ancient-times version of her (and it most definitely is not the real/movie Abby).

Regarding Tinúviel's death and the whole deal with the magik storm... in my head, her death is the reason why Aesir hate and fear magik storms so much in the present; and their origins (high-level magic) as well. They forgot Tinúviel was ever their princess, and how exactly she died... but the fear of the magik storms remained. It was even made worse, in a way, because they feared, but did not remember the reason why; which made the fear instinctual (sort of like a phobia, I think, except it encompassed practically every inhabitant of Asgard).

On that same note goes Odin's rejection of Nightingale, and then Jane as well. It's not that he has anything specific against either of them. And it is about being human, but not because they think humans less, it's that they're mortal, and as such they'll die; and while there was a lot he didn't really remember, he knew he wouldn't be able to take seeing his sons suffer like that (With Nightingale eventually he just gave up... and the fact that she had already died and was there meant the risk wasn't as great with her).

Jane's and Thor's scene... well, it wasn't really planned. When I first wrote it I was all "This doesn't really fit here...", then my mother said "If you wrote it there, it's because it fits there." And then I realized that the whole thing with Jane and Thor and Odin really did need to happen before the next part... which meant that if I didn't write it here, I wasn't writing it at all... so I guess that makes my mother right, again (it happens often). Anyway, I hope you really enjoyed the scene. While I'll probably never write a fic dedicated to those two, I truly like that pairing.

Now, on future plans: First of all, AUs! We're getting a number of those (could be as few as four and as many as... I honestly don't know, it depends on my muse and whether anyone wants to offer ideas, suggestions, or even make requests). I will be taking four weeks off (to finish writing the Hobbit series I'm currently working on, take a break from this -I'm tired, honestly-, and hopefully finish translating my original novel from Spanish to English -so I will be able to post in both languages-). I hope to finish writing the AUs faster than I'll actually begin to post them (in order to get to work on the third part, and post the chapters of that one faster). Like I've said before, there will be crossovers, the ones that have been used already in this verse (and the AUs) and maybe more (though not as many as Menel, I promise, that one was too much even for me); your suggestions are welcomed on that front too... as well as your guesses on the one I implied throughout this fic.

Now, this note is way too long already, so I'll finish and be done with it. I truly hope you enjoyed this fic. Please don't forget your reviews, I truly love reading your opinions (what you liked, what you didn't, what you might want to read next). And to the one who asked for it, I promise more Helblindi in the future!

So, that's that. Thank you for reading and see ya around!