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I woke in a cold sweat, my mind reeling from the same nightmare that had been haunting my dreams for the past year. Asgard in flames.

At this point I was used to it, but it still shook me up each morning. Especially considering they were becoming much more frequent of late. I tried to shake it off as I pulled on my clothes and pushed out of my tiny cupboard of a room.

I nearly collided head-on with Stephen when I emerged, but he moved quickly out of the way, seeing me even though his nose was buried deep in some ancient book.

"Busy morning?" I asked, tailing him.

He made for his book shelf, picking out a few more volumes. "More like afternoon. The one thing I could never teach you was maintaining a decent sleep schedule. Coffee?"

I nodded, and suddenly, there was a steaming mug in my hand.

"My sleep schedule is perfectly decent," I said, folding my arms.

He looked up at me with a smile, but when our eyes met, he frowned. "Nightmares again?"

It sometimes baffled me how all-knowing and observant he was. Kind of reminded me of Heimdall.

I nodded stiffly. "I used to have them back on Asgard. In the dungeons." I shook my head. "Anyways, I'm kind of used to them by now."

"Then why do you seem so shaken?" He asked, and I looked away. "It's beginning to concern me. Dreams aren't just figments of imagination. Sometimes they can be more." He sighed, looking back down at his book. "But my job is to protect this realm, not all of them."

I bit down on my lip. "You think Asgard could be in danger?"

"I don't know. Can't say for sure. What I do know is Earth has its own threats to deal with," he answered, looking up from his book. "Conveniently enough, today we're dealing with one from Asgard."

I nearly jumped in surprise, and my coffee sloshed onto the floor. "Asgard?"

"It's being dealt with, don't worry," he assured me with a smile. Then, he nodded in understanding. "Right, right, you'd know him. It's that lovely gentleman who tried to take over Earth. Loki."

This time, my mug fell to the floor. Stephen managed to catch it without, well, touching it, magically moving it from where it had almost struck the floor, to a safe spot on a nearby table.

"Excuse me?" I said slowly. "I think you've got the wrong person."

"I'm certain I don't," Strange frowned, looking back down at his open book. "Loki Laufeyson, adopted brother to Thor Odinson?"

"Loki is..." I took in a shaky breath, "Loki is dead, Stephen. He died right in front of me."

"Considering I just detected their arrival in the city no more than-" He checked his watch, "-Twenty minutes ago, I'd say you were tricked by the God of Tricks. Big surprise there."

"You've—You're wrong. You have to be."

Stephen's gaze suddenly angled toward the entrance. "Guess we'll be finding out shortly. Because his brother just arrived."

Before I could say anything more, I was suddenly standing in another room.

"Stephen, you know I hate it when you do that-" I began the same lecture I seemed to deliver every single day, but was cut off by a voice beside me. A familiar voice.

"Alivia?"

I turned to my right.

"Thor?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, pulling me immediately into a bone-crushing hug. I hugged him back, and then he pulled away, bracing me by the arms. "There is much I must tell you, Alivia. Loki is not dead, I've just discovered him alive in Asgard—And there's something more, I've been to Muspelheim, and-"

"Thor Odinson," I turned to the grand staircase at the sound of Strange's voice. He, ever the one for dramatic entrances, floated toward us, eyeing Thor wearily. "God of Thunder. You can put down the umbrella."

Thor looked to me for the go-ahead, and I nodded. He shot Strange an amused half-smile, before obliging. The moment the umbrella was placed securely in the rack, Strange teleported us again, sending a jolt through my body.

Given how shaken I was about Thor's arrival—About what it meant—I definitely didn't need Stephen magicking me all over the place.

"Strange—" I turned to him, but he silenced me with a stern look.

"So, Earth has—Uh, Wizards now?" Thor asked, poking at a display on the table.

"The preferred term is Master of the Mystic Arts—" There was an echoing clang as Thor knocked over the entire display, "—You can leave that now."

"Alright Wizard," Thor said, turning to Stephen with a hand on his hip, "Who are you, why should I care, and why have you kidnapped my friend?"

"My name is Doctor Stephen Strange, and I have some questions for you," Stephen said, not bothering to address me, "Take a seat."

In a blink, he'd magicked us into tall arm chairs. I rolled my eyes, sitting back and letting their conversation fade into the background, as thoughts of Loki crashed into me like a tidal wave.

Alive. He was alive. How could that be possible? I let my eyes fall shut, when I remembered what he'd done on the Dark World. He was a master of tricks and illusion, it wasn't just possible, it was likely. It was his signature move.

All this time, all this guilt, all this grief, and he'd been alive.

"Why bring him here?" I tuned back into the conversation as Strange leaned forward beside me, looking through narrowed eyes at Thor.

"We're looking for my father," Thor said, and I frowned.

"Odin? He's missing?"

"Loki managed in his time on Asgard not only to plunge the Nine Realms into chaos, but also to lose the Allfather, yes," Thor nodded, "He's been back all of five minutes and already I'm cleaning up his messes."

"So, if I were to tell you where Odin was, all parties concerned would promptly return to Asgard?" Stephen asked, folding his hands together.

"Promptly," Thor nodded.

"Great," Strange leaned back, "Then I'll help you."

Across from us, Thor frowned. "If you knew where he was, why didn't you call me?"

"I have to tell you, he was adamant that he not be disturbed," Stephen answered, "Your father said he had chosen to remain in exile... And you don't have a phone."

"No... I don't have a phone, but you could have sent an electronic letter. It's called an email?" Thor raised his brows, looking at Strange like he was seven kinds of stupid.

"Yeah, do you have a computer?"

"No, what for?"

I dropped my head into my hands, sighing.

"Uh-huh."

"Anyway, my father is no longer in exile, so if you could tell me where he is, I could take him home."

"Gladly," Stephen said, pushing to his feet. I braced myself to be magicked somewhere else. "He's in Norway."

By the time Stephen had finished his sentence, we were standing by one of many bookcases. I turned to Thor as Strange leafed through a volume.

"You're sure it was Loki? Not a well-dressed weasel?" I asked, folding my arms.

"I'm not entirely convinced he's not a weasel, but I'm sure it was my brother," Thor nodded solemnly, still reeling a little from being teleported, "He is alive, Alivia."

Suddenly, we were magicked across the hall, as Stephen rooted through a drawer.

"I—There is much I must tell you, Alivia," Thor said, blinking dizzily at having been teleported again. "When I was searching Muspelheim for Surtur, I learned—"

"Can I—I need, uh, just one strand of your hair," Strange interrupted suddenly.

"Let me explain something, my hair is not to be meddled with—"

Thor winced as Strange teleported behind him, plucking a strand of blond hair from his head.

As Strange began to whisk it into a spell, he transported us to the foot of the staircase. I seated myself on the steps halfway up, while Thor proceeded to tumble down the length of them, landing at Strange's feet.

"We could have just walked," Thor said, brushing himself off as he stood.

Before the two of them, a portal spun in mid air.

"But where's the fun in that for him?" I asked, more than accustomed to being teleported all over the place.

A smile pulled at the corner of Strange's mouth as he gestured at the portal. "He's waiting for you."

"Great," Thor nodded. Then, he turned to me. "Will you come with us?" He asked. "There's a lot I need to discuss with you."

A frown twitched my brows, and I looked to Stephen. I didn't know whether I was asking him permission or not, but when he nodded his head once toward me, I felt better about accepting Thor's offer.

"Okay," I said, "Can't promise I won't kill Loki for real at some point, though."

"You'll have to beat me to it," Thor said, as he stepped toward the portal.

"Oh, don't forget your umbrella," Strange reminded him.

"Oh yes," Thor extended his hand, and after a series of loud clashes and bangs, and a meek apology from Thor, the hammer whirred past me and flew into his grip. Thor brushed the debris off of Mjolnir, looking up at Strange, "And I suppose I'll need my brother back."

Stephen looked confused for a brief moment, before realization dawned on him. "Oh, yeah, right."

He spun his hands, opening a hole in the ceiling. And from it, fell Loki. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, and I hoped to God he was feeling a lot of pain from his fall.

"I have been falling—" He shouted angrily, as he pushed to his elbows, "—For thirty minutes."

Not nearly long enough.

"You can handle him from here," Strange said. My eyes drifted from Loki, as I tried to paint a careless expression across my face. Tried to conceal the hurt, betrayal, and anger that I was painfully aware were written plainly across my features.

"Yes, of course," Thor answered, shaking Stephen's hand, "Thank you very much for your help."

"Good luck."

"Handle me?" Loki spat, and I turned to see he'd pushed to his feet, his eyes on Strange, and not having even detected me yet, still seated on the staircase. "Who are you?" The words had barely left his mouth before a pair of daggers were in his hands.

"Loki," Thor warned.

"You think you're some kind of sorcerer? Don't think for one minute—"

"The preferred term is Master of the Mystic Arts," I echoed Strange's earlier words, and Loki's entire frame jolted with recognition.

Slowly, he turned to me, his weapon-wielding hands falling to his sides. When he met my stern gaze, something shifted in his eyes. His mouth stuttered open.

"Darling," he smiled. Actually smiled. "I can explain."

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