This Isn't the End

OOC Date: November 2, 2013
IC Date: November 27
Characters: Eir & Loki

Healing Rooms
The Healing Rooms consists of a network of three moderately sized rooms. The first room, as one walks in, has a large ornate table in the middle of the room for the patient to lay on. The table itself cases the mechanics to allow Eir to visibly bring up an image of the body while working. On either side of the main chamber are two smaller rooms that are equipped with cots and healing materials for longer stays, or other healing methods.

There are five young women that traverse the healing rooms, each a student of Eir. They all wear light blue dresses, modest, their hair done up and out of the way. They can handle simple healing techniques, but will report each admission to Eir, even if it is outpatient. More dire circumstance or complicated situations, they would summon the Goddess.


No sleep for the weary.

Should anyone ask, Prince Loki's been in the library from the early morning hours before sunrise to, well, about now. All food that has been offered has been refused, and any overtures to checking on wants, needs and/or desires refused.

After awhile, the apprentices have left him alone.

And alone he is with books, just as he had as a youth. Loki, the studious one. The one who finds comfort in the pages of a tome, regardless of the topic.


Having had a short chat with Sif, albiet unsuccessfully… The elder Goddess actually looks… worn. Perhaps even saddened. She pays little mind to the apprentices as they move throughout the rooms as she enters, though seeing something familiar, Eir pauses with a smile. He really doesn't change. Something of a comfort, even if he as chaotic as he is.

Her sadness is schooled however, though a faint glimmer hides in the aged shadows of her pale eyes. "Loki." She greets softly, nearing, but remaining a polite distance all the same.


Eir would know the look on the Prince's face, his manner and mien. He has been plagued by dreams, nightmares… visions all his life, and while Ragnarok has passed, Loki still has those visions, only different. In response, to keep all those thoughts from rising again, he's deep in a tome. The healing tome of which he was invited to look through, and now, ignoring all around him, he's fascinated with the illustrations, the illumination and descriptions of a catalog collected centuries, millenia before his birth.

It's when he catches her greeting that he pulls his head out of the book, and cants his head, pushing the book back a little. "Mother Eir. I.. was taking advantage of a quiet moment…"


"Since this morning?" Eir has not missed the whispers, even if she has not been fully in the halls for some of the day. Crossing to the table, her hand rests light on the back of a chair, "May I?" Despite their mother and son type of relationship, she still bids politeness to his station, as she does with any of them.

Though even Loki could recognize a slight strain in her form. A tension… a weight. Something that would be a very rare occurance. "I suppose I shouldn't tell you that there are more on those shelves… The number of herbs, mixtures, tinctures and otherwise are… quite numerous when you consider the nine realms."


"Hmmm? Yes, of course." Loki shifts a little to give room where desired. Rolling his head back a little, he does catch the fact that all is not right with the healer. Has he seen this before? Yes, once or twice perhaps. After coming back from protracted fighting to find that all is well. The strain of watching and waiting and not really, truly knowing…

Loki knows she, at least, truly cares.

Looking from the book to the shelves and back, Loki sounds a proper student. "Do all those on the shelves have reference in this book, or in the others?" He rises to look at the cataloging of the mixtures, the salves… and from a spot near the wall now, he turns, his full attention lies upon the Healer, the one who was there when he was growing up.

"Tell me who caused that weariness upon your face, Mother Eir, and I will have my say to them."


Settling in the chair, Eir crosses her legs at the ankle, folding her hands in her lap as her eyes survey the numerous tomes she helped fill. So much medical history right here. Illnesses, poisons, herbology… a very great deal of what she knows on those pages. Except that which she keeps only in her mind, of course…

"They refer to each other. Writing them over the course of so many ages, the references tend to get a bit tangled as newer information is gathered." Eir chuckles. "Perhaps someday I may… reorganize." That would be a monumental task in itself, but she may have little else to do here.

His words do make her features soften, and she smiles. She almost rebuffs the offer, though the thought gives her pause. "I had a disagreement with Sif. It seems my loyalty bares little weight anymore." With that, comes a sadness to her eyes.


Loki looks puzzled, his expression open and, remarkably, honest. "I don't understand." How, in moments like these, he seems the young man centuries ago on Asgard. -Before- anything bad, that is. Or at least too bad. "What could -you- possibly have done that could have Sif speak of such things?"

There's that flicker of anger that crosses his face, that which is also so very familiar. Loki is quick to anger, quick to insult… except when he is not. And there is never a good idea of when one or the other will occur. "Tell me why you are no longer counted upon as one of the loyal few, Mother Eir. I would know."


"Because I showed my trust in you. She feels betrayed because I did not stop you from slipping the guard. I even tried to pacify her with the knowledge that your behavior," Eir offers a small, humorous smile, "Is generally well, in my presence. Or even that doing so, you've been doing well with your escort since then." Eir is not a manipulative person. Not at all. But she has no issue stating the facts as she sees them. Or holding her tongue when necessary. But she is not in any mood to hide from Loki.

"She focuses on the feeling of betrayal and dishonesty on my part because of it." The Goddess shakes her head, forcibly biting back her own pain of being shunned so easily. "This is of my own doing, Loki."


Loki stands there, his back to the shelves, and he looks surprised. His expression flickers, showing only briefly that bit of sorrow before, and here it comes, those walls. "Did she speak of her continued love for you, or is that at an end as well?" It seems, for right or wrong, a decision is made in those blue/green eyes of his.

Taking those couple of steps, Loki smiles tightly and puts his hand on that ancient tome for a moment before he closes it, and those long, delicate fingers linger for a heartbeat after before he straightens again. "No, Mother Eir. It is not."


"She spoke in past tense." Eir admits, though seeing the change in the Prince, the Goddess rises to her feet. Moving around the table, she lifts a hand, though her touch very light, on his arm. She's aware of his distain for physical contact, but sometimes it serves for attention. "Please let this be my battle, Loki. Her anger is aimed at me, and let it be that way. There is no toil in caring for your brother, and I will not see you suffer for it."


"That is not what I am thinking. You are being punished for the one act that only one other has ever done." Loki looks sad now, it's in his eyes, though there is that wall. He smiles tightly at the touch of her hand upon his arm, and for a moment, looks all the world as if he wants to return the touch, to lay his hand upon hers.

But that's what got her into such problems. Trusting him.

Steeling his voice, the God of Deceit sounds a note of finality, and his words are barely above a whisper. "Do not trust me, Mother Eir. Even in my moments of quiet. They are fleeting. But please… care for my brother."

Taking a step back, Loki's head shakes, "If you have choices to make, do not choose me. You will lose." Because things are happening by his push, and the best place for the Healer is far, far from him.


As he speaks, something in her heart sinks. She can't lose two in one day… she just can't. Eir's hand falls as he steps away, her pale eyes on the Prince. "You never gave me a reason to not… for all you've done to any other, you have never wronged me." She will always have that love and trust for him… unlike others, hers is not so easily shaken.

"I have made an offer to your brother. I can help him, but it has to be at his choosing. I have yet to have an answer, however." Eir lowers her gaze from him to the tome. "I can not sway him." And Eir wouldn't mention the issue in such a manner if she did not feel it important for a certain outcome.

As far as her choice.. the Goddess can only hold her silence.


In Loki's mind, it is simply a lose one. It's just a matter of switching who it is that is lost. Truth be told, the Prince will always have a fondness for the Goddess who served as nursemaid, childhood confidante, she who healed his scrapes and bruises after bouts with an elder brother, and sat silently by during those nights of nightmares when his own mother couldn't come for whatever reason.

And another that he cares for is lost because of him.

Pressing his lips together thinly, Loki nods his head in the information, and his voice is still low. He simply can't will it any louder than it is now. "I will speak to my brother. It is distressing to feel as if he is a simpleton in the body of an Asgardian Prince. For what differences there are, I wish to see him back to health." It's hardly any fun to poke at him as he is.

Loki looks at the tome upon the table once again, and takes a deep breath to ready himself for that which -he- firmly believes must happen. He has to walk away.

But, before that, the Prince leans in to press a single kiss to her cheek, and he whispers two words,

"Thank you."

Loki straightens now, and turning about, walks out the door. As he does, however, it's not without a little bit of anger that boils over in the man. A hand swings up, and there comes a clattering in the corridor beyond as .. something falls. Or rather, is thrown to the ground.


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