"Where is she?"

"Your majesty, the princess is fine, she-"

"WHERE - IS - SHE?" Loki roared, the veins in his neck prominent as he loomed threateningly over the healer. The frightened man simply pointed to the golden doors and Loki shoved forcefully through them, his nostrils flaring, his expression murderous.

"Faðir!"

"Darling," he whispered, practically paralyzed at the sight of his wounded little girl, her arm bandaged, small cuts across her forehead. He crossed the room in several strides and dropped to his knees at her bed, casting his helmet and Gungnir forcefully aside.

"Who did this to you, my love?" he asked frantically, holding her face gently between his hands, inspecting her injuries. His blood boiled.

Astrid looked from her hysterical father to her bandaged arm and then back to him again. She knew that look. She also knew it was wise to placate him sooner rather than later. "Daddy... I FELL."

"Well, who pushed you?" he continued, trying to keep his tone of voice level for her sake and failing. "I shall punish them!"

Astrid brushed the stray hair from her face impatiently and sat up a little straighter, placing her good arm sassily on her hip as she raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "You're going to punish the roots of a tree?"

Loki felt himself relax, for there she was, his little spitfire. She looked well enough, but he couldn't be sure. The last time he was in this exact healing room, a long time ago, circumstances had been very, very different. "If I must," he teased seriously, beginning to calm at the realization that she truly was okay. "I will burn it to the ground."

"Ugh," she groaned, flopping exasperatedly back onto her pillow. "Mama was right."

"Oh? Do tell."

"She says you get "unhinged and dramatic" when you're very upset."

Loki tried hard to hold back the laughter that threatened, but there was no use. Her genuine annoyance with him, her impertinent tone of voice, her choice of words - it strongly reminded him of someone else he knew. He lost it.

Astrid peeked curiously over the bed at her father, Asgard's king, rolling around on the floor.

"What's so amusing?" she asked, irritated that he wasn't taking her remark more seriously.

"Ah, you are, my love," he sighed in between breaths, beaming up at her. She was every bit her mother and she was perfect. Hearing the word "unhinged" used by his little girl to describe him was too much. "Tell me, what more does she say about me?"

"Hmm," Astrid said, thinking hard. "Well, she says you love me very much."

"That is very true."

"She says that you're overly protective."

"Rightfully so."

"She says...," she stopped, unsure of whether or not she should continue. "You saved her life once. Here, in this very room."

"WHAT?" Loki snapped, sitting up, his face shocked, his eyes burning.

"Will you tell me about it?" she asked timidly, pulling the sheets up over her face.

"No."

"Pleeeeease?"

"You could ask for the stars and I would bring them down for you," he said, wincing as he laid back down on the floor, his head spinning. "You are asking for far more."

"Oh, come now," a soft voice suddenly came from behind him. He peeked up through one eye to find Sif walking through the doors, looking particularly breathtaking in a long-sleeved black and maroon silk gown. She cocked an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips, smiling down at him. "You were a hero."

"Hardly."

"Eir would disagree," she told Astrid, carefully checking over her cuts and bruises before kissing her forehead. "Shall we ask her then?"

"No," Loki groaned, pulling himself to his feet and taking a seat beside the two women who would certainly be the death of him. "I'll tell it."

"Where is she?"

"Brother, you must calm yourself-"

"WHERE IS SHE?" Loki screamed, his deafening cries silencing the room full of those closest to him.

"With Eir," Frigga said quietly, stepping forward to take hold of her son's arm. Loki was known to lose control of his temper from time to time, but usually only when one of his self-serving schemes had backfired. Never had he lost it on the account of another individual. Never had he cared. "She has been gravely injured."

As soon as his mother confirmed what the rest of the kingdom had been whispering about, Loki turned and ran towards the doors in the great hall, ignoring the pleads of his friends and family for him to "leave it" and to "trust in Eir". He bolted down the corridors in the direction of the healing wing, hearing nothing but the sound of his frantic footsteps hitting the pavement, feeling nothing but the pounding in his chest.

When he finally reached Eir's area, the most advanced part of the wing with the most highly regarded healers, he was stopped by a single einherjar who was blocking the entrance to the room where he knew she would be.

"Your highness, I am afraid I cannot allow you to pass."

"Move," Loki spat threateningly, chest to chest with the guard. "Or I will no longer allow your head to be attached to the rest of your body."

"Let him pass," he heard Eir call, just beyond the door.

Loki pushed through the doors and stopped as abruptly as he came in, the sight before him causing anything left beating in his chest to crumble. There, splayed out on the bed surrounded by several of Asgard's very best healers, was the Lady Sif, bleeding out before him. She was turned on her side, a thick wooden spear stuck completely through her front to her back on the same side where her heart beat. Loki couldn't breathe.

"Your highness..."

"Asgard's greatest healers," was all he managed to whisper disbelievingly, his voice hard and bitter. He was going to be sick.

"We are doing everything we can," Eir said calmly, though the worry in her voice was apparent.

"Well, do more."

"It's not that simple, my prince," another healer bravely interjected. "The spear is just next to her heart. It was poisonous. Even if we remove it, which we will, I'm afraid much damage is already done."

"What are you waiting for? Her to remove it herself?"

"She only just arrived. We have been assessing the situation and the best course of action," Eir said, her head down.

Loki averted his eye's away from Sif's to keep from losing his mind entirely and threw off the leather layers weighing him down. He rolled up the sleeves of his light green tunic and stared at the lot of them, eager to help in any way that he could. "What now."

"We need to remove the spear."

"But she is still conscious!" he roared, shaking his head in disbelief at the thought. "Surely you have something to remedy that?"

"We cannot afford to let her sleep. Not now. Not if there is any chance."

Loki swallowed and went to stand beside the bed, still unable to look at her. He knew he could interfere with their plans no longer, for he himself had no better one of his own. Time was of the essence now.

"We need to prop her up," Eir exclaimed, nodding for Loki to have a seat on the bed. "Hold her."

Loki returned the nod solemnly and sat, finally allowing himself to gaze upon his beautiful friend who was laying drenched in a pool of her own blood. Her usual rosy complexion was pale, her unfocused eyes were tired and blank, her body limp. She blinked, but would not look at him. Loki could visibly see her fading away and panic began to overwhelm him. He would have ripped his own heart from his chest if he thought it would save her, but it wouldn't. He gently sat her up to face him, holding as much of her as he could against his chest.

"I've got you," he whispered against her ear, cradling her head in the crook of his neck. Her warm breaths were short and shallow against his skin. "Stay with me."

"Let's get the rest of it now," she said, nodding to the other healers and then to Loki.

Loki closed his eyes and held Sif more securely, wishing that he could take any pain she felt. As they pulled the remainder of the weapon out, blood poured from her back freely onto Loki's hands, sending her into convulsions. He laid her back down and let the healers quickly work to stop the bleeding, trying not to get in the way. He refused to let go of her hand for several minutes, squeezing it frequently though feeling nothing in return. Loki was particularly skilled in magic, but his healing skills had always been abysmal. Still, he tried hard to focus, to do something - anything - to help her. Nothing seemed to happen.

Suddenly, Eir looked up, and Loki's eyes followed. A small, black strand floated above their heads, lit only at the very tip with a small, golden light.

"She is dying," Eir said plainly, her voice wavering. "Her light is nearly gone."

"No," Loki said, as the healers began to back away from the bed. He looked frantically to each of them in utter disbelief, his eyes red and watering. "NO."

"I'm afraid there is nothing more we can do, my prince," Eir said, shaking her head. "The poison is too much for her and our antidotes are useless against it. I promise, she will feel no pain."

"Sif," Loki said, as casually as if they were just outside about to spar, ignoring the healers. He sat her up once more, holding her so that their faces were practically touching. He shook her gently, his voice finally breaking. "Sif, look at me."

Though it took several moments, Sif's eyes opened and her gaze locked upon his.

"Don't go," he begged, shakily pushing her hair away from her face with his hand. "Please."

"There is still something you can do for her," Eir said through quiet sobs, dismissing the rest of the healers from the room to allow them more privacy. "Take her away from here."

Loki knew immediately what Eir was referring to. It was one of his greatest tricks; casting an illusion that would manipulate the environment around him. Loki held onto Sif's hands and tried to focus, and, despite his fear that he was far to weak to perform such a task, it wasn't long at all before the healing room faded.

They were laying together on a grassy knoll overlooking a broad meadow scattered with small, white flowers. It was summer and early evening in Asgard and the sun cast a pink hue across the sky while the moons and stars rose in the distance. It had always been Sif's favorite place in all the nine realms, and her favorite time of day to be there.

Loki sat her up and positioned her between his legs, her back against his chest, hoping this way she would be able to see the sun setting. He donned her with a flowing white gown, her locks tied back in a low braided bun with several white flowers in it. There was no more blood, no more pain. He dressed himself in his normal leather getup, only it was all black. The two looked much like night and day - and that they were.

Sif opened her eyes as the quiet breeze and the scent of wildflowers hit her. She managed to find Loki's hand in the grass next to her and squeezed it, sinking deeper against his chest with each passing minute. Time was running out.

Loki gently turned her around in his arms so that she could properly look at him, trembling violently as he did so. He wasn't brave enough for this. He wasn't ready for this.

"No matter where you go," he cried as he gazed down at the only woman he ever loved dying in his arms, his voice resolute. "I will find you."

Sif smiled vaguely up at him and closed her eyes, reaching up to feel his face against her fingertips.

"But if you stay," he shifted, holding her hand against his cheek, leaning down until he was inches from her lips. "I promise, I'll be better. I'll be better."

Sif sighed heavily and opened her eyes one last time to look at him. "I love you...," she mouthed, and just before her final breath, Loki brought his lips to hers.

Astrid's eyes wandered between her mother and her father, her mouth agape at the unbelievable tale. Sif stared quietly out the window, remembering the day as if it were yesterday. She had never heard it told from Loki's point of view as he would never discuss it. The pain in his voice was sobering.

"So, as you can see, my love," he said to his daughter as he retired once more to the floor, leaning against the bed, his tone heavy. "There is a fairly good reason for my dramatic behavior."

"It was your kiss that saved her?"

"It was," Loki replied quietly, his head in his hands. "She came to immediately. Eir had never seen anything like it."

"Wow."

"Frigga said the same, though there were accounts of it happening on other realms... legends, really," Sif interjected, coming to lay beside her daughter. She reached down for Loki, running her fingers gently through his hair.

"True love's kiss," Astrid smiled, sinking happily down into her pillow, satisfied. "I knew it."