Not much to say but a new chapter, and hopefully another one by this upcoming Friday. Enjoy:)

Title: Forever This Way

Author: xxxLovely Insanityxxx

Fandom: Thor

Rating: PG-13- for disaster related peril, violence, brief language, and sensuality

Summary: In 1985, the wreck of the Titanic was discovered. There was rejoice and celebration. But in that same year, it resurfaces Loki's memories of that ill-fated voyage. Of when he came to Midgard and became an unwilling passenger, and of the young woman that changed his life forever.

Characters: Loki, Elizabeth, some Asgardian people, Titanic people, etc...

Pairings: Loki/Elizabeth

Theme: My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion. As well as Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine

Disclaimer: As usual, I do not own Thor the movie or its comics, and never will. It all belongs to Stan Lee and Marvel

Over&Out!


April 10th, 1912

Titanic

On the other side of the ship, was located the so-called "Millionaire Suite". It was spacious and comfortable having two bedrooms, a bath, a wardrobe room and a large sitting room, and not to mention other accommodations and the abundant furniture of various kinds made of expensive wood, the walls covered in wooden panels that had golden carvings as decorations.

A room service waiter was pouring champagne into a flute glass and handed it to Elizabeth who was looking through some paintings. There was a Monet of water lilies, a Van Gogh of cypresses and flowers, a Degas of dancers, and a few other abstract works. They were all unknown paintings and soon to be lost works. Elizabeth looked up and saw Nicholas and Rosie running out of the doorway and into the suite, bumping in the waiter and nearly bumping into a table.

"Nicholas and Rosie, do not run around the room!" Elizabeth ordered, and went back sorting through her paintings.

"God. Not those fingerpaintings!" Clayton was talking through the doorway to Elizabeth who was in the sitting room."You know they were certainly a waste of money."

Elizabeth remained paying complete attention to the paintings, "You're wrong. They're fascinating. Like being in a dream... there's truth without logic. What's his name again... ?" looking at one of the corners of the canvas " Oh, yes, Picasso."

Clayton went into the sitting room and stood beside Elizabeth.

"He'll never amount to a thing. He'll never be famous, trust me. At least they were cheap." he chuckled.

"Yes of course, darling." Elizabeth replied absentmindedly as she left the room to go to hers with one of the paintings. A porter then came in wheeling Clayton 's private safe into the room on a hand truck.

"Put that in the wardrobe." said Clayton.

Elizabeth entered her bedroom with the large Degas of the dancers . She set it on the dresser, near the canopy bed. Her maid, Trudy, was already in there, hanging up some of Elizabeth's clothes. Trudy took in the the smell of the air and sighed deeply."'It smells so brand new. Like they built it all just for us. I mean... just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first-"

Clayton appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. His eyes went toward Elizabeth, primal and filled with lust.

"And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first."

Trudy blushed at the innuendo and said, "Excuse me, miss."

She edged around Clayton and made a quick exit. Clayton came up behind Elizabeth and put his hands on her shoulders, kissing her neck. Elizabeth closed her eyes, and tried not pull away in disgust, no matter much she wanted to. It was an act of possession, not intimacy.

"The first and only. Forever," He said possessively.

Just to make him happy, Elizabeth looked at Clayton with a fake smile and pecked him on the cheek. She turned back around, Elizabeth's expression showed how bleak a prospect this was for her, now. Showed her her wanted future that had no except. Elizabeth was thankful then when Nicholas and Rosie came laughing merrily, and running into the room; however, Clayton found it annoying, and was more aggraved when the children bumped into them by accident.

"Do mind where you're going next time!" He snarled. Elizabeth glared at him and walked over to the children, coming to their defense.

"They're just children, Clayton!" She said. Nicholas glared at Clayton with the most disdain look in his eyes. Clayton sneered back

"Who need discipline and manners, and a sense of direction-"

"Now what is going on here?" A male voice boomed out. The four turned around, and Rosie squealed in delight.

"Papa!"

Lady Ashford's former husband, Sir Lord Richard Ashford, was a man in his forties with dark hair and eyes, and neatly combed mustache and slick-back hair. Lord Ashford was extremely rich and proud, and was not afraid to flaunt it in front of your face. He was a man that made sure he got everything he wanted, people obeyed him, and ruled his household with a firm, iron fist. The children ran to hug their father.

"We're so happy you're here!" The children said in unison.

"Hello darlings!" He laughed. "I'm so sorry that I didn't inform you that I was coming along, but I wanted to keep a suprise for you and your mother."

Knowing there was more to it but also wanted a reason to get a away from her fiance, Elizabeth walked over putting on a serene smile. "Sir Richard! It's wonderful to see you again."

"Elizabeth!" Lord Ashford exclaimed, taking her in his arms and kissed her cheek. "How lovely to see you and Clayton. My how beautiful you look, my dear! You always look more radiant each day."

Elizabeth chuckled, slightly embarassed. "Sir, you're flatterings are too much-"

"Richard?" After finally coming back from the deck, Margaret asked. Lord Ashford turned around and feigned a surprise look upon his face and faked a grin.

"Ah, Margaret!" He said, embracing his wife. Margaret cringed as he touched. Only Elizabeth noticed this interaction. It was quite a sad reality, really. The Ashfords used to have a loving marriage, but then Lord Ashford began an affair with a little actress, and everything came tumbling down. The only people who Elizabeth felt sorry for were the children and woman that she had considered as her mother.

"What on earth are you doing?" Lady Ashford said tightly.

"I wanted to see my wonderful family!"

"How very unlike you."

"Really Margaret, is that anyway to greet your husband? Well, former husband."

"Am I not being cordial enough?"

Sensing an argument about to happen, Elizabeth turned to the children and said, "Nicholas, Rosie. How would you like to go up on deck with me? I'm sure we can find more things to do up there instead."

The children nodded their heads and grabbed for Elizabeth's hand. Lady Ashford sent a look of gratitude towards Elizabeth, as the three left. Seeing he was also not wanted, Clayton silently left to go to the billiard room on the other side of first class. After that, Richard turned back to at his ex wife, this time with a harden glare.

"We need to talk."


April 11th, 1912

Titanic stood silhouetted against a purple post-sunset sky. She was lit up like a floating palace, and her thousand portholes reflected in the calm harbor waters. The 150 foot tender Nomadic lie-to alongside, looking like a rowboat. The light of a Cherbourg harbor completed the postcard time later at the first class reception room, a number of prominent passengers could be seen, all of them dressed with the most expensive suits money could buy at the time; a broad-shouldered woman with an enormous feathered hat came up, carrying a suitcase in each hand, a spindly porter was running to catch up with her to take the bags.

"I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny. Take 'em the rest of the way if you think you can manage." She said to the porter.

At Cherbourg, a woman named Margret Brown boarded the ship, but to friends, she was called Molly. But in history, she would be called the Unsinkable Molly Brown. Her husband had struck gold someplace out west, and she was what the rich ladies usually called "new money". Molly was a tough talking straight shooter who dressed in fine clothes like all the other rich ladies, but she was someone that would never be one of them, not that she wanted to anyways.

By the next afternoon Titanic had made her final stop and was steaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing more ahead of her but ocean.


April 12th, 1912

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history..." The managing director, Bruce Ismay exclaimed proudly. "...and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

Ismay sat at the table where also sitting was Lord Ashford, Clayton, Lady Ashford, Elizabeth and Molly Brown, all of them located at a sunny spot in the restaurant that was enclosed by high arched windows and transparent curtains that were beige in color and moved softly with the breeze that came from outside.

Mr. Thomas Andrews, of Harland and Wolf Shipbuilders, was rather uncomfortable as he was receiving too much attention, "Well, I may have put her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is," He said slapping the table, "Willed into solid reality."

Molly looked at the men around the table and smirked before asking, "Why're ships always being called "she"?"

Before she received an answer, the waiter arrived to take their respective orders, Elizabeth who had been silent all along looked into her bag and found a cigarette, after she lighted it, Lady Ashford stared at her.

"You know I don't like that, Elizabeth." She said tersely. She had been tense ever since the conversation she had with Lord Ashford. Clayton looked between Elizabeth and Lady Ashford.

"She knows." he said in a low tone while he took the cigarette from his fiancee's lips and stubbed it out.

Then Clayton proceeded to give his order to the waiter, "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce."

He then looked at Elizabeth, after the waiter walked away, "You like lamb, don't you sweetpea?" Elizabeth had no answer, she just gave him a saracastic smirk and sat there in silence; for her part, Molly was watching the interactions between Elizabeth, Clayton and Lady Ashford.

"So, you gonna cut her meat for her too there, Clayton?" She said staring at Clayton, not noticing the dirty look that Lord Ashford gave her, and then she turned her attention to the other gentlemen on the table, "Hey, who came up with the name Titanic? You, Bruce?" she asked with a knowing expression on her face.

"Yes, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury... and safety-" but before he could continue, Elizabeth interrupted him with one of her known clever comments.

"Quite an interesting assumption you have there. Do you know of Dr. Freud, Mr. Ismay? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you." Elizabeth looked at the other men on the table with a very stoic face, Andrews chocked on his bread stick, trying to suppress his laughter, but he found himself unable to do so. Lady Ashford and Molly looked with amusement written on their faces.

Lord Ashford, however, just stared at his former ward, looking angry. "My God, Elizabeth, what's gotten into-"

Before Lord Ashford could try to chastise her in front of the others, Elizabeth simply stood up and walked away with nothing more than a whispered, "Excuse me."

Lord Ashford gave his ex wife a dirty look- thinking she had something to with this- and looked at the other people on the table still looking mortified, "I do apologize on her regard."

Molly looked at Clayton, "I like her. She's got spunk. She's a pistol, Clay, are you even sure you can handle her?"

Clayton was tense but tried to hide it under a mask of unconcern.

"Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on."


Loki sat on a bench under the sun, watching life passing by along the deck and Quentin drawing in is sketchbook, his only valuable possession. With a black conté crayon Quentin drew quick lines giving them form and then some shadowing using fast but sure strokes. Loki looked up to see what he was drawing; an emigrant had his three year old daughter standing on the lower part of the rail, she was leaning back against her father's stomach, watching the seagulls while pointing at them. The sketch captured them perfectly, with great detail and managing to give some of the feelings of the moment to the paper itself; Loki knew that Quentin was talented, very talented, and could make money off of them and be famous if he wanted to. Loki never thought it possible that he would ever think that way for someone that he considered to be a friend. But then again, that was before Loki knew Quentin.

A young Irish emigrant who was standing by the railings, watched as a crew member came by, walking three small dogs around the deck. One of them, a black bulldog was among the ugliest creatures on the planet he thought. "That's typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shit."

Quentin looked up from his sketch, "That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things."

The Irish man looked down at Steve, "Like we could forget."

Quentin raised his hand, "I'm Quentin." the Irish man took the hand and shook it, "Name's Tommy O'Reilly." (A.N. I just had to put Tommy in the story, favorite guy in the movie:))

Quentin nodded and Loki just looked at the two men.

"This is my friend Loki." Quentin nodded at Tommy who shook Loki's hand.

"So why do they call you Loki?" Tommy asked. Quentin laughed and Loki scowled.

They continued joking until Loki glanced across the deck, at the second level railing of of the B-deck stood Elizabeth, dressed in a pastel green dress, staring off at nothing in particular and looking sort of distressed; Despite himself, Loki found himself unable to look away from the fair-haired woman. The deck felt like a valley that extended between them, and despite himself, Loki couldn't help but to think about what could bring such an air of desperation and sadness on someone like the woman standing up there? Such emotions didn't look right on her face. But Loki knew he couldn't do anything. He didn't even know the woman and she just stared down at the water. He shouldn't cared so much about what was causing a mortal such distress, but he just stared, as if he kept staring at her, the solution would come.

Loki watched the woman up on the other deck play with the lace sleeve on her dress. She looked at the sleeve with absentminded boredom, and looked back out at sea, and Loki couldn't take his eyes away from the beautiful mortal, who looked as if she had a sad and very isolated life. Like the one that he lead himself.

Tommy tapped Quentin and they both looked at Loki who was still gazing at Elizabeth. Quentin and Tommy grinned at each other while they turned suddenly and saw Elizabeth turning to look at them, and looked right at Loki who got caught staring; he didn't looked away but the woman did only to look back again. Their eyes met across the space of the deck and felt as if they were standing just in front of each other.

Then, Loki saw a broad-shouldered tall man come up behind the woman and took her arm violently, as if he was trying to drag her inside; she jerked her arm away and argued, the woma stormed away and the man who she was arguing with went after her, both disappearing into the A-deck while Loki still looked at the place where the troubled looking woman was standing not so long before. He felt pity for her and resentment for the man, that treated roughly.

"Forget it, boyo. You'd as like have angels fly out of yer arse before you even get to be standing next to the likes o' her." Tommy said to Loki who was still gazing up to where Elizabeth had been standing. Loki finally came back to his senses, and looked back out across the main deck. She's just a mortal. He thought. She has nothing to do with me. Besides, what good would it do if we ever came across each other?


That night

Elizabeth sat surrounded by people who were in a heated conversation. Clayton and Lord Ashford were laughing together, while on the other side Lady Ashford and a lady were talking non stop; it was not easy to hear what they were saying since all the noise got lost in the constant buzz of the restaurant becoming an annoying mixture of sounds in which you couldn't hear anything and no one could hear you either. Elizabeth was staring at her plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around her. She saw her whole life as if she'd already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches- always the same narrow-minded people, the same mindless chatter. She felt like she was standing at a great precipice, with no one to pull her back, no one who cared- or even noticed.

Back inside her room, Elizabeth stood in the middle, staring at her reflection in a large vanity mirror. She just stood there and then with an anguished cry, she clawed at her throat, ripping off her garnet and onyx necklace, talking off her black satin gloves, and threw them across the room. Elizabeth moved within the room tearing her clothes off, heaving her in her white chemise and corset, and then pulling her hair out of it's contraptions and chignon, then she started to toss everything she could get her hands on too. Elizabeth threw everything off the dresser and most of the things flew clattering against the walls, some of them making a shattering noise and others simply fell with a blunt sound that echoed within the empty room. She threw a silver hand mirror against the vanity, breaking the small mirror, causing some pieces to fly around the place while the vanity was completely cracked; she stared at her broken reflection over the great mirror then diverted her attention towards the floor, bending down and getting a hold of one of the broken mirror pieces. Closing her fingers around it, Elizabeth held it with all the strength she could muste,r feeling as the piece of the mirror was digging into her hand, drawing a stream of blood that fell drop by drop on the carpeted floor; but if there was pain, then she couldn't really feel it.

"Lizzie?"

Elizabeth turned to see Rosie, evident that she had woken up from all of the ruckus. Rosie looked at the destroyed room, and then at the dissheveled woman. "What happened Lizzie? Why're you crying? What's wrong?"

Such childhood innocence would never understand her pain. Elizabeth let out a sob and sprinted out of her room and across the B-deck looking disheveled, her blonde hair flying and she was crying. Her cheeks streaked with tears, but she was mostly angry and very furious, shaking with emotions she didn't really understand... Hatred, self-hatred, desperation. A walking couple watched her pass, shocked at the emotional display in public, but she didn't really cared. Didn't give a damn about what people thought about her right now. She was crumbling inside and she didn't wanted to be explaining herself to a pair of strangers about why was she in such a distressed state. It was not as if they cared either, so Elizabeth ran and ran, trying to keep her screams inside but the tears still streamed down.

At the same time, Loki was sitting on one of the wooden benches gazing at the stars that were glowing and tinkling on the dark sky, thinking about everything and nothing in particular at the same time. But mostly about finding away to get back to Asgard. It has already been four days and he still he didn't have his powers back. It was infuriating! How long was he going to stay here. No matter how much he liked Quentin and Tommy, he just wanted to go home. Loki could only hope that by when Titanic reaches America, his magic will come back and he would finally be able to call out for Heimdall. Hearing something, Loki turned his head as a blonde haired woman in a chemise ran up the stairs of the deck. It was the woman from earlier; they were the only two on the stern deck, except for one of the officials who was at the docking bridge.

Elizabeth didn't see Loki, who was practically being hidden by the shadows, and ran right past him.

Seeing how distressed the other one was, Loki found himself standing up and following the woman as she ran across the deserted deck.

Elizabeth let out an occasional sob, which she tried to suppress but to no avail, then she slammed against the base of the flagpole and remained motionless, just clinging onto it panting, as she stared down at the black water. Slowly, she started to climb over the railing, moving clumsily on it and methodically, she turned her body and so that her back was in the direction to the railing, facing out towards the black ocean, down below the massive propellers where they were churning the black water into white foam.

Elizabeth stood there staring down at the water, then she leaned out moving a little too much towards the front, her arms stretching as she continued looking down at the whirlpool below her, her flaxen hair being moved by the wind generating by the ship's movement and the only sound was the water below.

"Don't do it." She heard a voice call on from her direction. Elizabeth turned her head looking straight onto Loki's face.

"Stay back! Don't you dare to come any closer!" Elizabeth yelled and then Loki saw tear tracks on her cheeks in the faint glow that was coming from some of the lights on the deck.

Please tell me she's not this foolish to do this. Loki mentally thought to himself

"Take my hand. I'll pull you back in." Loki offered, while extending his right arm.

"No! Stay where you are. I mean it! I'll let go." Loki looked into Elizabeth's eyes. "No you won't."

Elizabeth looked at the green eyed man with doubt on his face.

"What do you mean I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me." She barked at the stranger who as interfering between her schedule with death.

"You would have done it already. Now come on, take my hand."

Elizabeth was confused and the tears were making her vision blurry, so she wiped them with one hand almost losing her balance.

"You're distracting me. Go away." Elizabeth said to the stranger.

"I can't. I'm involved now. I'd be an idiot bloke if I let some foolosh woman like you to do this to herself."

"How dare you talk to me like that?" Elizabeth snapped, but shuddered as she realized she had just sounded like the others.

"And if you let go I'll have to jump in right after you." Loki couldn't believe what he was saying. Why sould he care if a mortal died? Why should he help her?

Elizabeth looked incredulously at the man, "Don't be absurd. You'll be killed."

Loki then shrugged off his jacket while looking up at the suicidal woman, "I'm a good swimmer."

"The fall alone would kill you."

"It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't. To be honest I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold." Elizabeth looked down at the water once more, the fact of what she was about to do finally stuck in her mind. "How cold?" She asked, her voice making the question sound almost like a whisper.

Loki looked at her "Freezing. Perhaps. a couple degrees over. Have you ever been to Hell? In Norway, I mean?"

Elizabeth turned his head looking surprised, "What? No."

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around there. Once, when I was a child, my father took my brothers and I out sailing. I looked out into the waters, and I was leaning so far, that somone bumped into me and I fell in. The water was cold- I remember turning blue all over; it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breath, you can't think... least not about anything but the pain." It was all a lie of course, but Loki was hoping that it having the woman thinking. "Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm hoping you'll come back over the rail and not let me do this."

Elizabeth stared at the man, stunned. "You're bloody insane, you don't even know me! Why would you jump after me!"

"I've been told that I was insane, and I would jump after you because the guilt of having the chance to save you and not doing anything about it would simply kill me." He said while sliding one step closer, like moving up towards a spooked animal. "Come on. You don't want to do this. Give me your hand."

Elizabeth stared at the man for a long time looking at his green eyes, staring at them as if they held the answer to every possible question in existence,

"Alright." She said while she started to turn her body around, one step at the time, carefully detaching one of her hands from the rail to hold onto the other side while she rotated her feet, Loki reached up and held Elizabeth's right arm.

"My name is Loki Martinsson," Loki looked at Elizabeth's face.

"Loki?" Elizabeth asked. "As in the Norse god, Loki?"

"You could say that," Loki said. "And your name, miss?"

"Elizabeth Bradshaw," Elizabeth replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bradshaw." Loki brought Elizabeth's hand to his face, and kissed it gently.

Elizabeth let out a small laugh and said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Martinsson." Elizabeth started to climb up and vertigo made itself present, as she started to climb up to go back into the safety of the ship. Her shoe caught the thin skirt of her chemise, and slipped as she felt himself falling down. She let out a piercing shriek, while Loki was gripping one of his hands while Elizabeth was holding onto one of the sides of the rail with her free hand.

At the docking bridge, screams could be heard so the officer stationed there on guard went on alert.

"I've got you. I won't let go." Loki tried to reassure Elizabeth, holding her hand with all his strength, bracing himself on the railing with his other hand. Elizabeth tried to get some kind of foothold on the rails while Loki tried to lift his thin body over the railing. Elizabeth was unable to get any footing on any of the rails in her evening shoes since the sole was too smooth for that which caused her to slip back and to scream once more.

Loki managed to pull Elizabeth up, and they fell together onto the deck in a tangled mess, spinning in such a way that Loki ended up on top of Elizabeth.

The guard appeared all of the sudden and yelled, "Here, what's all this?"

the guard moved quickly and pulled Loki off Elizabeth, the woman looking distressed while she lied on the deck; the officer looked at Loki, noticing that he had his jacket off, and the first class woman was clearly in distress, and started drawing conclusions; two more officers appeared on the deck to join them.

"You, stand back! Don't move an inch!" the first guard yelled to Loki while pointing him, then turned to face the other two officers. "Fetch our superior."

A few minutes later, Loki was being held down by one of the superior officers, who was the closest thing to a cop on board; he was handcuffing Loki when Clayton came to the scene and was right in front of the Norse god, looking furious. He had rushed to the deck with Lord Ashford and Warner right behind him, and none of them had coats over their black tie evening suits. One of the officers was having a drink and looked over at Elizabeth who still looked spooked and offered the beverage to the distressed woman who was sitting on a bench nearby; she accepted the drink and looked over at Clayton who was then grabbing Loki by the collar.

"What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancee?" Clayton snarled. "Look at me, you filthy bastard! What did you think you were doing?"

Elizabeth hurried up towards the screaming man to try to stop him from hurting Loki. "Clayton, stop! It was an accident."

Clayton slowly turned his head towards Elizabeth, "An accident?"


Really long, long chapter this time. Lol, plz review:)