"Really, what were you thinking?" "I was ill mother, not feeling well. I tripped." she washes my hair over the bath. "You're going to wed with broken ribs?" "MARRIED! What makes you so sure he wants to marry me, he's in love with that Midgard woman, and surely Sif will have it out for my blood. I'm pretty sure Odin has no interest in him getting married to me for Christ sakes!" "You must not talk like that! He must marry to take the throne and make an heir. Why not you?" "WHY ME! I don't want to get married, I don't want to be queen, I don't want to birth his heir. When did this even come about? If he doesn't love me and I don't love him, he has some perfectly well candidates that would love to be betrothed to him."

"Shame on you! We worked so hard to get you here, to raise you to be a lady, and now look at you!" The hairbrush clatters into the tub. "Well mother, this is never what I wanted so you're wasting your time." "Well you are attending tonight, and if the opportunity comes about, you will marry him." "It's not going to." I pout.

"What did you do to your face?" she helps me up onto my feet and begins to dry my hair. "What do you mean?" "You're burned." "No?" "Yes." "I assure you, I know nothing of how this occurred." she shrugs. "I'll cover it. You really should quit frowning. It gives you wrinkles." "Oh? Did you acquire yours through your arranged marriage?" I spit the words at her smugly. She responds with a swift slap across the face. "How dare you, you disrespectful, ungrateful, mess of a girl." My eyes begin to water and I take the towel from her, drying my own hair slowly, careful not to twist or reach.

I leave the bathroom to dress but she stays put. I lay on the bed slowly, fighting the urge to slam my body against the mattress. The tears spilling over my eyes as I softly weep. I burry my face in the pillows. I feel a set of hands on my back and I jump, letting out a hysterical cry of pain. "I didn't mean to frighten you." she sighs, pulling me up into her arms in somewhat of a hug. I haven't gotten a hug from her in ages. She wipes my tears with her thin fingers.

"Tell me, how did you…fall down the stairs?" she chuckles. "Well, I got a horrid headache, so bad that I was a bit dizzy, and as I took a step down I just…tumbled. I knew something was broken immediately." "And Loki, he helped you?" "Yes. He assisted me in getting to my room and found someone to tend to my ribs." "And then he left?" "Yes?" "I just found it a bit peculiar that he didn't return to dinner. You have to be cautious of people like that you know, he just reminds me of a snake." "I know mother. I thought him to be quite charming actually." she sticks my scalp with another pin. I feel her checking for any loose pieces, grateful she was near finished.

"I don't know how you're going to wear this." "I think I'm capable, I must be a lady after all." I smile at her. "I don't want you to be in pain all night." "I'm fine mother." I prove it to her by sliding it over my head. I take a strong grip on the vanity chair. She pulls the laces and I squeeze my eyes shut. "Tighter" I mutter. I feel my ribs move under the bandage. "Answer me honestly dear?" "Yes?" "Did he hurt you?" she whispers. "May I ask to whom you're referring?" "Loki." her lips barely open "No mother! Don't be absurd. What makes you think so badly of him?" "Maybe they treat him lesser because he…is a villain."

Gatherings on Asgard are rather 'lame'. Mostly a lot of socializing in stiff clothing, and dinner with a place setting wider than the table. Mother enjoys being the last one to arrive, attracting attention. I'd rather stay pressed against the wall. She shoves me towards the front of the hall. The room seeming only taller and more decorated filled with people. "Talk to him." "What do I say?" "Charm him." I'm still in the dark. "You know, what you kids do these days…" "Are you advising me to sleep with him!" "Think about it, what better way to get to know someone…" "Excuse me!" "He was supposed to marry that Midgard woman, he fathers Sif's children, the man is not shy." "So now this is about showing me like some whore on a street corner for your own personal gain! How shallow!"

I storm off, fuming, slipping out the doors into the night. I figure I should return not wanting to be a drama queen. I take the back entrance, down the stairs. I push past everyone, slamming particularly hard into a man looking the opposite way. "Excuse me, I apologize." he puts his hand on my shoulder. "It's quite all right." I look up at him recognizing his face immediately. "You look quite stunning." "Thank you, as do you." he wears a well tailored black suit over a gold scarf, his shirt collar starched and bleached perfectly. Without his helmet he almost feels like a different person. His black shoes coming to a point at his toes seemed only to enhance his height.

"I thought I may see you here." he smiles. I make my gaze parallel with his, he seems to be staring at nothing, an invisible person across the way. "Are you looking for your next brain smoothie?" I tease him. "No, Only someone with a considerably stronger ribcage." he chuckles dryly. "Touché" "Dance?" he still stares off, as if he isn't talking to me. "I don't." "I don't believe that." "Maybe with proper invitation, I could think of it…possibly." he rolls his eyes. "My lady" he says dramatically. "Would you care to engage in a dance with me, possibly?" he presses his lips to my hand. "Why yes, with such a handsome man such as you, I would." I say sarcastically.

He isn't particularly light on his feet, but he isn't the worst. I find myself attracted to him still, but less than before. I have no urge to throw myself on top of him. The fire turns into a general feeling of happiness. I admire how handsome he is. Certainly the most handsome man I've met. He has a jaw line of stone, knives as cheekbones, and his features perfectly placed on his porcelain face.

I feel my mothers condescending gaze on my back. "She's angry." he whispers. "Yes." I step closer to him, letting him wrap his arm around my back, careful not to brush my ribs. The space between us vanishes. "Could I tell you she's not looking for your best interest?" "You could. I would believe you." I shake my head. "She wants to kill you… not genuinely." He laughs. "Do you think we could speak a moment? In private?" I can tell he has no intent to harm me, we are actually speaking, and that whatever he has to say is genuinely bothering him. I nod and he slides through the dense crowd smoothly as I trail behind him. My mother's demon stare following us out the door.

He leads me outside into a long marble corridor, taking lefts and rights, looking for somewhere empty, still with a firm grip on my hand. We pass a few empty expanses and he settles on a spot behind a column, in the back of a hall, at the back corner of the castle, the open sky to the right of us. He lets go of my hand, allowing me to catch my breath. The cold stone feels cool on my neck. He looks around before speaking, as if anyone could find this place. For the first time I feel a sense of doubt in himself, more like a lack of confidence.

He takes both of my hands loosely. "Do you know what this gathering is for?" he lets me think about it. "No, nothing comes to mind?" I look down at my feet. "It's an…sort of an…engagement party, if you will." for who? I idiotically think to myself and well, to him also. "Yours." he laughs at my childish ignorance. "To Thor?" "Yes." he stares pitifully at my rage and confusion. "Why?" I say rhetorically to myself. "Odin is angry that he has no heir at this age, if he is to die in battle, and Odin passes, anyone can take the throne." "Surely Sif's children could…" "All females." he sighs, correcting my theory. "He likes what an partnership with your father has to offer and figures you are attractive enough to get Thor through his many misfortunes with the ladies, and serve as queen." "Misfortunes? Of what sort?" "Oh Jane Foster being banished from Asgard so near to them being wed, marrying her 'real' human true love." "And Sif?" I ask, sort of not wanting to know, staring softly into his eyes. "The goddess of war would not be a great ruler. She is a bit of a stalker, he is her true love, but it goes on and off, as it does when you're love sees you unfit and marries someone from another planet." he chuckles passively.

"So now what then?" I feel myself getting emotional. "Well, you two are going to get married, maybe in a few days, followed by the coronation, consummating the marriage, and waiting for an offspring, a male." he says simply, shrugging. "Consummating the marriage? I have no desire to do such things! Surely he didn't agree, the man won't speak to me, and there's talk of consummation? He already has 2 women, why not add a third!" I throw my arms up in the air. "Shhh! You mustn't be so loud!" he laughs, taking my arms back to my sides. "Don't cry." he offers me his hanky, still smiling. "He's not happy, but he wants to satisfy our father. Odin's not looking to wait around for him to find his true love. He wants a mother and a queen. No matter what the expense to Thor."

"I can't get married to him, I can't say no! I can't consummate or what ever it is, screwing someone you have no feelings for is like making love to a rock! I don't want to be queen, I want none of this! Why me!" he waits for me to collect myself. "I'm sorry, how horribly un-ladylike for me to cry and curse in front of you." "No, no it's perfectly fine." he hugs me again, tightly. "You see, there's another plan." he stares into my eyes and tells me, another one of his twisted grins coming across his face. "There is?" I whisper.

"You become…" he stops for a moment, taking my hands again and stepping toe-to-to towards me. Leaning into my shaking body and pressing his lips to my ear. "You become my queen." "You and …I get married?" I scrunch up my face in question, still shaking. "Yes." my blood runs cold. I know he's not even in line for the throne. "No disrespect towards you, but how am I sure this is not a cruel, mischievous, plot against me?" "Of course my ways come back to bite me…My dear, I would never. I would love nothing more than to have you on my side as the queen of Asgard. Queen, It's not as bad as you think." "The god of mischief doesn't rule alone?" I become defensive. "Not when he finds someone that he loves, that is the most beautiful in all the galaxies. A strong woman, that can hold her own, no he doesn't. I had never felt love in my heart for a woman like I have with you. Never have I felt the need to care for someone else, or listen to them, or make them happy, and then I met you. And it seems all a bit backwards with our first encounter being…as it was." "I suppose you have found love with all the other women you have slept with?" I chuckle. "No. Just yourself, I was over taken by your beauty, and being cocky, as I am, took it upon myself to get to know you better and now I believe that I would like to spend my life with you, because you make me feel…special." he looks at me earnestly knowing I don't believe him.

"But you are getting married to Thor, he knows of this plan…most of it." "He does?" "Yes." "I'm inquisitive as to how you intend to execute such a scheme?" "Well, I'm going to go in there and tell Thor, he's going to tell Odin that you're no where to be found. You're going to hide in my quarters, and it will be called off. A few days later I'll announce my betrothal to you and there's a bit in between that doesn't really concern you but…" "Won't that cause quite a scene?" I warn him. "Darling, Mayhem is what I do best." "I want to do it." I pronounce confidently. "Excellent." he kisses me passionately, intertwining his fingers in my hair and channeling his excitement onto my lips.

He whisks me down the hallway into a large foyer that seemed to be leafed in gold and stones, there still was a coldness about it, a chilling in your soul, reminiscent of Loki himself. "They know you're in here." he points to the guards. "Make yourself at home, you must hide for a bit, they'll show you where when the time comes. I'll be back in a few hours." he turns to the doors and I pull him back for another kiss on my tiptoes. "Rest well, my queen."

I walk through the large doors into what appears to be a bedroom. I'm in doubt that one person could use this room, about a hundred could fit. It seems to go beyond my sight, all a bit eerily lit. I see more guards against the walls, their faces stone cold. I sit on the bed, pulling off my shoes and undoing my hair, feeling the long strands rest against my back. It feels best to lay, not sit, I do so not wanting to take the corset off in the company of others. I could use the powder room but I'm too comfortable to look and who's to say they won't be in there too. I smile to myself. This bed is so large that there are places that could never have been touched. Maybe four times as large than the bed in my room, which is much too big for me alone, and maybe a family of 10 alone. I can't seem to rest, feeling anxious. I'm not able to pin what the anxiety is from, my thoughts disorganized and moving frantically across my mind. Even though it is silent I feel a sense of chaos wash over the air. I smooth my skirt and sigh, wishing I knew what was happening.

I hear the large door creak open to the foyer and I quickly jump off the bed. The man pulls me along by the wrist to a clothes chest. He gives me his arm to step in and to my surprise it's completely hollow, with false drawers on the front. My leg falls through and I decide to sit and pull my other leg over. My sitting ends up being rather ungrateful, resulting in more of a plop to the hard floor. I gasp in pain. Damn ribs. I situate myself on the floor. "You must be silent." he whispers "I will come get you when it is okay." I nod and he closes the door, deciding to leave it a bit ajar, making the impression that he'd looked here and to not leave me completely in the dark. I hear other guards circling the room, overturning furniture and opening drawers. My heart begins to race. What happens if I'm found? That wasn't part of the plan. I feel my heart in my throat. The doors open and I squeeze my eyes shut. Looking straight, you couldn't see me, but looking down I was blatantly there. They seemed to be thorough in their hunt. He closes the doors again "She's nowhere to be found! Odin is sure Loki had taken her as the mother saw them exit but she is not here and he is down there!" "I assure you I saw nothing of this woman." I recognize the same guards voice that had assisted me. "Describe her to me, and I shall search." he begins to tell a vague description of me. "…quite short and thin, small, with brown eyes and long hair, brown hair." "Very well then, I shall look."

I begin to doze slightly as the air becomes thin and smells of sharp furniture stain in my nose. Putting my arms around my legs that are flush to the wall of the chest, the far end pushing against the middle of my spine. I pull my hair back, beginning to get warm, feeling the heat grow on my neck and back. I still hear pacing and suddenly everyone stands down. I hear clear footsteps to my cage of sorts and the doors creak open. Unsure of who it is, I don't dare look up. "You're fine now." they say.

It's Loki. He gives me a hand to rise and lifts me out of the chest. He seems cold, not that I expect celebration. More like the Loki I'd heard about prior to our encounter. He looks sinister and heartless, cunning and deceitful. I begin to wonder if the one I'd met was some kind of 'false Loki', and this is some horrible trick. "Do you wish to eat?" he says, once again, as if he was talking to an invisible person across the room. "No, thank you." "I know this is moving rather fast and you may be confused for a few days, but it will come together." he says to that invisible woman. I nod. "Do you doubt me?" he laughs. "No. I'm just…tired." "We shall sleep then." he whispers.

I walk out into the bedroom. "I shall call someone to get your things if you desire." "No need." I mutter shyly. "Don't be shy. Very soon this will be your castle." he appears to be changing, I can't really see across the room. I make my way into the bed, pulling back the thin cotton duvet, exposing silk sheets. I'd figure for someone who is always chilly he'd desire more than a thin blanket. He makes his way to the middle first, then pulling back the sheets and climbing in. I stand at the edge. "Yes?" he shoots me a questioning look. "Do you wish for me to sleep in your bed?" he nods at the invisible woman. I don't wander far from the edge. Looking to be alone. "Do you wish for another bed to sleep in?" he asks, realizing I might have been asking indirectly. "No, no bother." "Did I hurt you…your feelings?" he asks, sounding slightly horrified. Apparently this being around intimate company, caring for others business was new to him. He'd never before addressed hurt feelings, I'd assume, him being the one to purposely cause them. "No, not at all. I'm just…a bit down is all." "Do you wish to talk about it?" "No." "Misery loves company." he comes over to my end, awkwardly laying next to me. I suppose when you're small you dream of being in a castle and marrying a prince and wearing a crown. I did. Now I have it, the prince slightly less kind and heroic, but handsome none the less. And I want nothing more than to go home. "I'm sorry you didn't choose this. I'm sorry you're marrying someone you don't want to and I'm sorry I can't tell you what's going to happen or console you any, for I have no idea how."

I giggle. "Can I show you?" my giggles growing into laughs of amusement. He laughs at my ridiculous notion. "Yes." I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting my head rest near his collarbone. "Do what feels right." I tell him. He wraps his arms around my waist like a weakling. "You know, I've met three year olds that give better hugs than you?" I tease, smiling up at him. "Make me feel secure, show me you can protect me with those muscles." "Protect you from what?" "Sadness." I giggle. He squeezes me tighter. "Atta boy!" I laugh. "Now if I start weeping to you about my woes and worries, you do as you did before, say 'I'm sorry' or 'I understand' even if you don't because girls love you so much for just holding them that you can't really be held accountable for saying the right thing." "Sounds simple enough." we laugh. "But you have to look like you're paying attention because it takes a lot for a girl to spill her guts to a man." "Spill her guts?" he asks in confused horror. "It's an expression. Like to tell you everything." "I see." "And you have to let her lay there. For as long as she wants. Rub her back, or just lay still, it will come naturally to you I promise."

"Okay." he relaxes. "Let's see." I back away and sit casually next to him. Looking a bit sad and picking at my nails. "Oh, Loki, I… just lost my virginity to this devilishly handsome man." I use his own smirk against him. He invites me into his arms and as I continue to dramatically ramble on about something fake he wraps his strong arms tighter around me, nodding and apologizing, stoking my hair and what not. I intend to test him one final way, sitting up and kissing him. I wait for his response, still caring, it continues for a while before getting heated. He begins to untie my dress. I pull away, he looks at me like a hungry small animal, pleading for more. "Never, ever, take a woman's clothes off while she's upset, you must wait till she assures you it's okay." he raises his eyebrows, irritated that I tricked him, and that he failed, also that there's nothing mischievous about chivalry.

I kiss him again, putting both hands on his face. "Beautiful job though." I tell him. "Must I teach you to act next?" he chuckles, I laugh loudly. He pulls at the strings of my corset under my gown. "Oh excuse me" he smiles "May I take your clothes off?" he smiles cheerily with fake enthusiasm. "Stop!" I push him, blushing."Let us reflect on the fact that I've already seen you unclothed." "Oh, don't be greedy!" I lay down a length away from him. I feel his hand crawling on my back, "Loki." "Yes?" "I'd prefer if you wouldn't." he reminds me of a spoiled child, not used to not getting his way with an antic or two. He does not listen. "I have no intent to be intimate." "I have no intent to take my clothes off in front of these lovely gentlemen." "It's fine, they must be here." "Why?" I nag. "Would you care to have your throat slit in your sleep?" "As I recall it, you took residence with me last night, no peanut gallery in tow, and there was more a chance of you slitting my throat than anyone slitting yours?" I sass him. "As I recall it, you had no problem taking your clothes off for me, us having never met." he huffs. "What are your intentions?" I ask, hurt. There's no response. "You must watch what you say to me, what happens if I am 'found'? I look not to be hurt by you, as I think you cold and heartless. You must force yourself to be kind and caring and I refuse to be your outlet of sinful desires and insults. What great wrong was done to you, that has plundered your heart Loki of Asgard?" my voice shakes. I leave the bed, fed up. "Where are you going?" he laughs at me evilly. "Shall I tell Thor to get the wedding ring?" I refuse to give in, sitting on the floor and pouting, a bit scared he would 'brain smoothie' me, and I would die on this floor, for I could see that he was not above that.

I wake to him dressing, his feet vibrating the floorboards. One guard catches my gaze. "She is awake." he whispers, as not to alarm him. He sighs, clearly in disgust. Walking over to me and looking down on me, I prepare myself to die, as best as one could. "Do you seek an apology?" I ask. He smiles at me. "Would you care to apologize." "I would give you no such satisfaction." I turn to look at him, my ribs aching worse than ever. He spits on me, and simultaneously drags his boot into my sore bones. "I'm satisfied only that you have found where you belong, on the ground in the dirt, with the filthy mindless worms." "I assume you're familiar?" he chuckles, lifting me towards him by the neck "I would be cautious, the proposal of unspeakable torture still stands…my lady." his smirk fades into a neutral stare, seeing that I have no fear of him. He drops me forcefully onto the floor, catching his knee on the way down, my neck and shoulder cracking. Spitting in my face again, he makes his exit. "Do not allow her to get up, she deserves to see what occurs when I'm dissatisfied." he tells them. "Yes sir" they reply in unison.

I begin to sob uncontrollably, not from physical pain, but mental stress. I remain still, not able to move. I cry for hours until my forehead is slick with sweat and grief. My stomach shows it's first hint of hunger, having not eaten since dinner the night before last. With hunger, thirst follows, drying my mouth more with each second. Every once in a short while a thought would come across and upset me, my cries accompanied by dry coughs, the coughs harmonized with screams of pain. I try to settle on this floor. The room falling silent except for the clink of armor put to no good use. "You must not talk like that to him." I don't process the words, assuming they weren't for me. "You must not speak to him that way, for he'll surely kill you. He disposes of all his mistresses, murdering them in cold blood. He is not capable of love. I've seen him since he was small, never once did he allow himself to be insulted or condescended like he did with you last night without a pursuing a much worse vengeance. Not once did he allow a woman into his bed, much less his arms, laughing or smiling, joking, he doesn't believe in real love and he's confused as to what he has with you. He will not hesitate to butcher you in the most torturous way. You'd be wise not to test him…if you look to live." I sit up to acknowledge this speaker and 3 of them are at my throat, the blade scraping against my neck. I put my hands up in surrender, laying back down, choosing to only nod in gratitude.

"Is she alive?" "She appears to be dead." "Check her pulse." "He wouldn't like us to touch her." "Would he rather she'd be saved, the only one he likes might as well die a more majestic death." he laughs. "If you want him to kill you like he did your brother, go ahead." I want to tell these blathering idiots I'm alive, barely it seems, but still alive. Thirsty, my neck bleeding out, and dislocated. The doors open and they make a return to their post. "Where would you like it disposed of my lord?" "What?" he sounds annoyed. "The corpse." "Leave a woman on the floor and by nightfall she dies!" "May I?" "Yes?" he growls. "She seemed to be whooping, she had broken some things, probably dehydrated from weeping, her stomach growls, and her neck was lacerated." "Lacerated by whom?" I listen to him pace, and their knees literally knocking in terror. "Three, when she rose from the ground." he says meekly. "She was only sitting!" someone blurts out.

"And after she bled, you sought after no care for her wounds?" "Well, my lord, you usually kill them anyways so we assumed none would be needed." "I wasn't looking to kill her you fools!" his voice booms. "May the three of you that saw fit to murder my bride step forward…" silence. "Unless you would all like to suffer the consequences?" I hear three step forward. Followed by one plead for mercy, screams of agony, and three bodies hitting the floor, crying in pain. "Take care of them" he snaps, walking towards me, bending over and listening for my heartbeat. Surely covered in my blood, he tilts my head up. To my shock, I can still feel the pain in my neck. He rests his hand on my throat. "She lives" "The doctor my lord?" "Yes."