She was a doll made of porcelain.

The kind his mother was fond of from Midguard. However, this Mortal being was far from the kind of thing Frigga would collect. She was alive, but locked away in a glass box none the less. Kept from the touch of humanity and only to be viewed.

He spoke to her often. He knew all she wanted was to get away. He knew her deepest secrets and fears. He knew the long list of things she seemed to hate and the short one of the things she loved. He found this through talking to her, but it was not a conversation that drew him to her.

No, he went to see her to find out if the rumors of her beauty were true. And, as Lie's ally rarely dispointed him when it came to such things- they were.

Her lips were full and brick red. Eyes sweet and sad looking, endless pools of green and gold, which were framed by long, sweeping dark lashes. Her skin was a painted on color that looked healthy and flawless. He would find out later that it was because she had never seen a single ray of sun in her life.

Her glass box was her tower room. Hidden away for her mother to look at, with viewing glass behind the heavy door. The woman was as mad as a hatter, he guessed. And he was right. She told him she had an older brother that died in the womb. Her mother didn't believe that her daughter was real, and had died also.

The more he saw of the porcelain girl, the more he found things he despised. Her lovely golden hair was becoming like dull straw because her mother had found a new plaything. Her full cheeks were sinking in and her dress- which was always form fitting- hung in folds off her limbs.

"Why don't you ever leave?" he asked her the question that baffled him during each visit.

"She is my mother and while I may not love her I must do what she expects of me." The happy voice he'd grown to love was becoming weaker. Damn it all! Why couldn't he just steal into her box and take her? "Besides," she would continue, trying to bring a smile to his face. "I may break."

The more time that passed, the worse she looked. One day, he snuck up to her room using the shadows as he did so many times. He'd brought her flowers to enjoy for a short while; sadly they would have to leave with him. She was growing too weak- if only the spells blocking him from the glass would vanish! As he was about to open the door he could hear shuffling; the mother was in there, speaking to her daughter.

"I'm afraid you aren't beautiful anymore. So I will have to throw you away, only husband wont let me. Perhaps if I break you..."

He burst through the door and saw the glass was gone, and the mad woman was about to throw the daughter out the window that was usually locked up.

She looked to him once, smiled a weak smile, and whispered. "I love you, Loki." before leaning out of the tower window.

"No!" He shouted, pushing past the woman, so close-! "Annabelle!"

There was a sickening thud that made him groan and fall to his knees.

"I love you." He whispered to no one. Not anymore.

She was a porcelain doll, and she had been broken.

Just a drabble that I literally wrote right before going to school. Kind of depressing, but it may become a chapter story later, either a prequel to this or a continuation. I don't know yet.