The mans fingers lightly traced the outline of the picture- the picture of Loki. The photograph, in her eyes, was perfectly clear, despite the wrinkled corners and the rain blending the colors together, dripping to the ground in drops of murky black.
Lara swallowed heavily, taking a step back as she looked up into the mans green stare, which seemed to be encased in a thick layer of Ice, and yet burning with hatred, like venom, it's affect equally afflicting, making her head spin.
But that wasn't hatred she saw, burning in his eyes, it was pain, Unfathomable amounts of pain.
And then, suddenly, as he disappeared physically, she felt her own body falling backwards, slumping heavily against the glass wall, mud sticking to her like a fresh layer of clothing, staining the glass as well. Where the man once stood, the photograph lay, strangely enough, it was dry, the color returning to its appropriate setting, the wrinkles smoothing out, and the mud dissipating. It wasn't Thor, or the hammer, it was Loki. The God of mischief, lies, and deceit.
And he wasn't just on the paper anymore.
The window was partially open, the parchment colored curtains blew into the room, fluttering in the frigid wind, which traveled to caress Lara's pale cheek, drawing her out of sleep. She sat up slowly, blinking the foggy cloud that was sleep out of her silver optics.
Why was it so cold?
Right. She wasn't in the helicarrier, where it was literally illegal to open your window, less a bird fly in or the ship were to fall back into the ocean. Lovely that would be waking up to.
A sigh reverberated through Lara's throat as she peered around the small room. Of course it wasn't hers.
Her room was never this cold. And those weren't her curtains either, that floated out from the temporary makeshift windows of the research base. Their function was just to simply block out any view from anyone looking in.
Lara stood up, achingly slowly, she approached the window, another gust of frigid wind brushed past her, sending a shiver coursing through her body. Her fingers pulled the thinly covered paper that served as a window down, clicking it back into place securely. But not before another icy rush of wind tickled her cheek, sending her thoughts spiraling back into the night before, as if it was the mans icy touch caressing her cheek as they did the photograph, and not the wind. The paper detached itself suddenly as a colder breeze passed into the room, startling Lara out of her daydream and causing her to slam the paper window shit, her arms shaking slightly.
She groaned loudly, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. What was wrong with her?
"Should I come back later...?"
She jumped again, whirling around to face Clint, her hair flying up in what could only be described as a hurricane of chestnut waves, the window unraveling itself behind her for the third time.
"Damn it... You-"
"Made you piss yourself? I can tell."
"Shut up, it's not funny. What do you want?"
"Wow. Not even a good morning?
What's up with you?" Clint made himself perfectly at home, striding into her room, complete with a pair of light blue jeans, a black tee shirt, and a black shield vest on top of that.
"Nothing, get out of my room... What time is it?" In building this place, they had deprived her of the one thing needed to survive and keep her sanity: a fucking clock. Was that too much?
"No, I built it. And it's like two thirty."
"You didn't build it, your men built it..."
"But I watched!"
"Your unbelievable..." She sighed, "Why are you in my room Clint..."
"Well... I was standing in my tower, like the lost little princess I am, and I came across this hairy beast fighting with her window. I thought I would come and settle their dispute before someone got hurt."
Lara couldn't help but smile, "Thanks Fiona," she did have a thing for Shrek. "I'm glad you're taking the windows side over mine."
He chuckled, pushing himself up and walking over to one of her bags, of course, there was no privacy with him. "Here, since I'm on the windows side, I'll help you slay the beast." He pulled out a brush, motioning for her to sit down. When she refused- which refers to stomping her foot and folding her arms over her chest stubbornly- he walked over to her, shut the window, then dragged her over to the bed.
She giggled like a child, "Fiona! Let go of me! Or I'll-"
Clint rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing out the rats next that had formed in place of her hair. "Or you'll what? Call Steve? We've already been over this."
For some reason Clint was convinced that If he ever got into a fight with Steve- a real fight- he would win. His reasoning being that he could shoot Steve from afar, while Steve is mostly only a short range fighter, unless he has a gun or decides to throw his shield, which was easily dodged. Lara didn't like to think about that, the odds of the two most important people in her life fighting each other.
Despite the soothing feeling of having someone else brush out her hair, Lara felt an involuntary shudder flow through her at the thought of the people she held most dear ever fighting. It was her worse fear. What was the likelihood of that?
She murmured, her voice soft as velvet. Clint sighed, setting the brush aside when her hair was tamed. In his eyes, Lara was still the helpless little girl Steve had carried onto the SHIELD base when he first came back.
"Lara, whats wrong? Just tell me, I'm the guy who sneaks you out of of the hellicarrier for ice cream, remember? You can tell me anything."
Lara chuckled softly, standing up and walking over to one of her bags, pulling out a small, slate colored box, "Ihate ice cream... your the one who eats it. While-"
"-While Tony tries to have Jarvis run a test on you to figure out what the hell was wrong with you? A teenager not liking ice cream? Yeah, I remember." Smiling at the memory, Lara walked back over to the bed, sitting down on the floor next to clints feet. "I think I'm ready."
"Ready? To try ice cream again?" He narrowed his eyes, his expression becoming unreadable, it was clear- he didnt like what he was about to hear.
"I'm ready to figure out what this is."
Lara opened the box, inside, on a little black plush cushion, sat a scarlet ruby, about the size of Lara's palm. There was a hole carved into it where the chain of a necklace could slide through to be worn. The gem itself was smooth and cut skillfully on one side, while the other was jagged, almost flat. As if it had been split in two.
"Got you!" The small, raven haired boy lunged forwards, tackling the even smaller girl off of the adomen. She squeaked in surprise when they both tumbled down onto the soft carpet of the room, sheets and pillows that had been set up around them as a fort tumbled down on top of the children, aged seven and eight.
"No fair, you cheated! The couch is neutral territory!" She giggled, poking his forehead as if to make a point. "Numpty."
"Your the numpty one here! The adomen was your ship. Ships fly in the air, so technically you were next to Asgard. Not on it." He retorted, rolling off of her and laying on his back, arms behind his head.
"But Asgardians always win." she grinned, throwing herself on top of him, throwing a plush, golden pillow down on his face, "Now die you troll!"
They both laughed, the boys arms rising to block the frail, but swift blows from the harmless weapon. "Kalliste... you're crazy," He grabbed the pillow and smirked up at her, white feathers clinging to his obsidian hair and dotting her chocolate locks.
"Look at you, making such a mess, when thats not even the real enemy."
Kalliste looked behind her quickly, in response to the second voice. "You... But how?" He chuckled softly, holding up a dark red jewel. She looked back down at the pilllow she was holding, the boys emerald eyes flashed in amusement, "I win, numpty."
The figure beneath her faded away in a stream of green light. "Loki! Your such a cheater!"
Loki sat up sharply, his emerald eyes a fraction wider then normal, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
The room, the prince of Asgards living quarters, was built in the same fashion as much of the rest of the palace. The golden walls and silk fabrics along the bed seemed to shimmer with a light green hue. The ground was lime stone, mixed with a collection of precious and semi precious stones, polished to shine and to never scratch. On the far wall, next to a wide balcony, was a set of assorted daggers, lined up in an organized fashion. Beneath the daggers was a glass case, seated upon a black and gold pedestal, inside lay the red stone from the dream. Lying in several fragmented pieces, some to small to pick up without the use of magic, though the majority of the gem was in one piece, it was still only halfway complete. Further down the length of the wall, next to the bed where the god of mischief sat, was a dresser to match the pedastal, as well as the bed and a few bookcases on the opposite end of the room, though they were shrouded in a film of dust. On the dresser was the signature golden horned helmet belonging to Loki himself, recently polished and shining. His septor leaned up against the smooth wall.
"Kalliste..." The name escaped his lips before he could control his tongue, the remembrance unearthing memories he had buried long ago. But why had they suddenly resurfaced?
Loki stood, exhaling slowly and lifting his hand to brush a few loose dark strands of hair out of his face. The morning sunlight shining in through the open balcony reminded him of the time, and what he was now to do. Odin was in the Odinsleep, his mother weary and remaining by her lovers side, while Thor remained a prisoner on Earth.
This was his chance. To rule. Like he was always meant to.
And no mortal that happened to resemble Kalliste was going to get in the way of that.
Hey guys sorry for such the long wait. We've both been really busy with school and we had some problems with our computers. Anyways thanks for reading and let us know what you think!
