Hours seemed to pass afterward. Or maybe days, possibly weeks, it felt like forever. I couldn't keep track of the time, there being no windows or clocks, the only light source being the dim spotlight that shined down on me.

Thanos had still not come back for me, had left me suspended in midair with a countless number of broken and mangled bones. A couple of hours ago I had fought through the pain in my arms enough to heal the swelling in my neck and my ribs, just enough to subside the pain. It still lingers since I didn't have enough energy to completely heal my bones, so I poorly healed my major wounds enough so my life is no longer in danger and I could somewhat maneuver, but I still had a few crooked and twisted bones that would take way too much energy to heal, and I lacked thereof.

Sleep weighed on my body and exhaustion weighed my eyelids down, but each time I almost slip into the sweet release of slumber, this invisible force seemed to slip into my head and keep me from going under. Black spots plague my vision, colors bursting in my eyes with each sudden head movement. I allow my head to lull back, trying to regain as much energy as possible without sleeping so I might be able to better heal my body before my bones will heal themselves and remain crooked.

With a shaky breath, I close my eyes, trying not to think about anything. I can't break down now, I have to remain somewhat stable and prepare myself for whatever the Mad Titan has prepared for me. Will he leave me here for days more? Torture me by making me sleep deprived? The thought alone seemed to make the lingering sleep press down more, beckoning me into the welcome arms of slumber.

I feel the darkness close in on me once again, and I begin to brace myself for that tug on my consciousness to keep me from giving into it, but surprisingly it doesn't come, and I loose myself into the swirling abyss.

I am not sure how long I was laying suspended in midair, drifting in and out of consciousness. The throbbing pain in my abdomen didn't leave me even after sleep grabbed hold of my throat and dragged me under.

I don't remember if I was dreaming or not, but soon a strange red mist swirled in my vision, illuminating a pitch black image into red and blue spots in the back of my eyes. The dim lights I see begin to brighten, and a sharp pain shoots through my head. And then suddenly without warning, it all stops, and the only thing that's left is darkness.

A strange sensation rifles through me,like a somewhat electric shiver down my spine. So many feelings and sensations attack my senses at once it's hard to keep up and track them all. The first thing I note is the plush, comfortable surface beneath me, the comfortable heat that strokes my skin and kisses my cheeks, unlike the phantom cold of the strange chamber Thanos had previously kept me. I also take into notice the freedom of my movements, I no longer feel the weight of the iron gauntlets that had bound my hands, and I finally feel brave enough to open my eyes. When I do, my breath fails me all at once and my stomach drops.

Recognition crashes into me, the silk sheets embroidered with amber patterns, the oak wood posts and ornate headboard with whorls and engravings carved into it. The window next to my bed, casting a golden sunlight on my skin, and outside tops of golden towers poke into my view.

Asgard.

The thought alone had my breath coming shorter, eyes widening. Confusion rattled my bones and exasperation caused my fingers to tremble. What the actual hell-

I ran my fingers over the carved, oak bedpost, narrowing my eyes and knitting my brows together. This is my bedchamber, one I stayed for almost my entire life. I immediately look down at my body, scouring my body for any proof of my injuries that Thanos had given me. I check my arms, fingers running over my skin and paying close attention. As I move my attention to my left arm my heart freezes. On my wrist, where it had been for almost a year, was a intricate, golden bracelet encrusted with emeralds.

Loki's gift to me, and a promise that I would remain his even through my forced engagement to Thor. My heart shuddered and I fight the tears that threaten to tear through me. I trace my fingers over the whorls and designs of the beautiful piece of jewelry. I remember that I wore it on the Dark World, I hadn't even thought about it before with Thanos. To be fair, I was being crushed to death at that moment, and I was wearing large bulky iron gauntlets that had covered my entire hands.

I threw the sheets off of me, stumbling out of bed in shock. How is this possible? Is this some sort of illusion, or had my encounter with Thanos been the illusion itself, or a dream? My fingers threaded through my chestnut hair and tugged, balling my hair into fists on my head. I still had multiple broken ribs before, how do I not feel anything at all? No evidence of the pain before, not even a whiff of a headache, or that strange, phantom weight in under my skin that had crushed my bones so easily. I flew from beside the bed and toward the tall, full length mirror on the wall. A whimper escapes my throat and I feel as if someone had mercilessly hit me in the chest, knocking the air out from my lungs.

In the mirror I see what I am wearing, the green and gold silk nightgown. The second gift from Loki prior to our courting. This could not possibly be real, it just can't be! I can't be on Asgard, unless.....

Had my encounter with Thanos really had been a dream? Or is this a dream?

I pinch my arm over and over again until the skin begins to bruise and my flesh aches, but I still continue to do so. This doesn't feel like a dream, but then again neither did that torture room. I grab the hem of my gown and pull it up to expose my torso and chest, trying to find any hint of my wounds, and to my surprise there is a scar on my waist.

The puncture wound that killed my double on the Dark World. Exactly where I had been stabbed was a red, freshly healed scar that seems to be magically mended, it must have been Eir who healed me. I also notice my skinny composure and thin frame, my ribs poking out from beneath my skin. How long had it been since I'd eaten? I'd thought it only to be a couple days, but how long had I slipped into unconsciousness? Could I even be sure that my encounter with Thanos was real?

All my senses switch into high gear when I hear my door begin to open into the bedchamber.

Thanos-

The name shot through my head and I allow the gown to drop, flying toward the bed with skilled efficiency, grabbing Dygö that had been lying next to the bed. I couldn't help but marvel at my blade for a brief second.

The door opened shortly after, I positioned Dygö toward the door, leaning against the bedpost and watching carefully as someone stepped through. My shoulders sag in relief at the golden haired warrior clad in fighting leathers and Asgardian armor. Thor's face brightens at the sight of me, though I held my sword and stood on unbalanced feet. "Ah! Lady Lyra, you are awake!" Thor exclaimed, not at all affected by the fact I held my sword toward him. He quirked an eyebrow at me when I didn't lower it, and finally I did. "What happened," I said unsurely, absentmindedly fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist.

He frowned at me, taking a step into the corridor and shutting the door behind him. He gave me a concerned gaze, taking in my hunched shoulders and petite form. "Are you feeling alright? Perhaps you should lie down for a moment," Thor says, he takes a few steps forward and without thinking I stumble backward, leaning against the side of the bed. I saw the confusion flash in his eyes at my movement, but I didn't let myself slip too far into what could be a facade. Thanos did exhibit the ability to glamour and show illusions, could this be one?

"You didn't answer my question," I squeak out, leaning my palms against the bed. He sighs softly, grinning at my unease. "A little jumpy, are we? Foul dreams I presume?" Thor asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip. I didn't answer, keeping my face neutral and unrelenting but failing ultimately. He sighs again, then sits on an armchair in the corner of the bed chamber.

An image of Loki sitting there with a book in his lap flashed through my mind, and I force the whimper down my throat and the image from my mind. " When the dark elf stabbed you, we thought you to be dead, but once I returned to gather your body you were still breathing, and filtering in and out of consciousness. I took you back to Asgard and Eir healed you, you've been asleep for days." Thor tells me, I stare at him dumbfounded.

This couldn't be real, it wasn't me who died on Svartfelheim, I saw that illusion die in Loki's arms, that wasn't me. I looked at Thor skeptically. "You must be famished, Lyra. You haven't eaten well in a long while," Thor told me, he stepped toward me and held his arm out in silent offer. So many questions rang through my head, Odin just forgave Thor and I for our misconduct? We committed treason of the highest order, and he just allowed me to come back in critical condition and be able to return to my old chambers without a thought? Wasn't I a convict in his eyes, even without having committed high treason? There is no way in Nilfheim that he would ever allow me to be safely returned without repercussions. I was about to say something, but I indeed was famished and joined my arm with his.