Thank you, as always, to everyone who reviewed. I receive more, it seems, when I write a Loki chapter, so I'll definitely keep that in mind as the story goes on. Honestly, I already have picked out from the first chapter, "Lucy's" love interest. It might just surprise you a bit. Anywho, words can't express the gratitude I have for what you've guys said so far. Very, very, very inspiring. I can't say that this is my best chapter to give you, but I couldn't think a way around it. So, I just hope you enjoy!


Chapter 7 - Harmonious Madness

The rest of the day drifted by without incident or injury. A success, I realized, considering I seemed to be a magnet for destruction as of late.

Every so often, I would peek out my window, only to see Clint perched somewhere nearby, always in a different area than the one he'd been at before. Once near the newspaper stand. Another time near a group of women gossiping at a cafe, approximately ten feet down the street. Even caught him once, or I would have sworn I did, on the ledge of the opposite apartments from us. Now that was just showing off.

It always seemed like he spotted me before I could spot him too, and this happened to be another skill I attributed to him. Range, and creative placement.

I'd throw him a knowing wave once I was able to pick him out and he'd smile to himself without even seeing me, although he must have with those quick eyes of his.

After these brief moments of amusement, I was back to work on handling the situation I'd been tasked with.

It's no secret that I always believed I could take on the most grueling of tasks. I had an energy source other beings could only dream of.

But each time I glanced at myself in the mirror on the way to the bathroom or kitchen, I would falter.

I wasn't lying when I mentioned that rarely, if ever, a Queen was harmed in her duty. They were always able to defuse situations without having to get involved in the bloodshed. We were born with a naturally calculative mind rivaling that of humans like Hannibal or Patton.

Having Clint stationed somewhere outside my apartment provided me relief I hadn't even known I was craving. Maybe even a bit too confident to believe I craved.

It also gave my mind a rest from having to constantly ponder tactics and solutions to the point of out right paranoia. For a short while, at least.

Until I realized the problem was far more severe than just writing up a modest treaty.

Did I even really know what I was getting into with Loki? The same God who'd intentionally attempted to cause genocide upon two races just because he didn't feel loved?

What if this time around, I'd be forced to retaliate?

I had already begun disciplining myself not to rely so heavily on the universe's abilities what with all the eyes suddenly trained on me; from this realm and my own. This included letting my injuries go unhealed and lowering my sense of awareness of the world around me, dangerous if someone intended me harm.

And while my discipline had been little as of yet, I could already feel the change.

To my surprise, it wasn't necessarily pleasant. I'm not sure if this is just the comfort I've lived with for the past three years of having a sure form of protection, or simply how deeply in tune with the universe I felt. Like it breathed, lived, slumbered, and thrived inside me.

At least that's what it felt like when we spoke. And the last time we had was over a week ago, right before Loki interrupted.

Retaliation aside, how was I to defend myself against the God if I was practicing this form of restraint? Peaceful by nature doesn't exactly seem to warrant any sympathy from his heart. And our realm practiced wisdom over weapons, so in a fight, he would take me down embarrassingly easy.

With this thought, a cringe raged through me. How appropriate for me to encounter a God who believed the exact opposite of my own values.

Turning toward the kitchen, I ignored the disproportional features I knew I'd catch in the mirror. Taking them in was far too depressing.

And I succeeded, but not with more worries igniting. Could such a lost individual really find the light again?

THIS thought forced a shiver of anger to course through my entire body. Before I knew it, I slapped my burnt hand down against the Formica counter top, not even feeling the raging snap my sensitive hand expelled.

What kind of question is that? Of course he can. A Queen gives up on no one.

What if I'd simply determined the Frost Giants to be too malicious and allowed them to overtake Los Angeles? Or let the Seven-Nebula war continue on because one person couldn't possibly fight off so many demons? What if I decided to never settle on all of the realm's treaties promising an end to disputes?

What if? What if? What if?

There were no what ifs. Thinking in that manner shows a reluctance to take risks. To handle things others may deem too strenuous.

A Queen had to be above all of those obstacles, at least emotionally. She had to swallow her pride, her fear, everything threatening to consume her insecurities, for the benefit of the other realms. Whether it was helping out billions of a civilization, or one tragic-minded God, it mattered not. Or two, if one wanted to get technical.

Giving up is not an option. Not when I already witnessed the spark of redemption hiding so wantonly inside Loki.

Nodding affirmatively to myself, I pushed out the receding doubt still intent on succumbing my mind to surrender. It was only temporary. It was always only temporary, that instinct to give in.

And then I yelped loud enough surely to scare off a few birds near my window.

Glancing down, I bit at my upper lip while my uninjured hand carefully prodded the injured one. It felt like the energy of seven hydrogen suns had ruptured my nerves all at once. Really, I had to be more careful about keeping my injuries to a minimum on my own. Irony would surely strike me if I were to be the victim of my own clumsiness.

This was another thing I was a tad bit concerned about.

Lately, meaning since my residential stay on Earth, I felt myself indulge in anger with the carelessness of a rotten child. Not random, I'm-going-to-kneel-you-in-the-face-and-then-bite/molest-your-mouth, type of anger. But small things which seemed to lead to this fierce emotion expanding into a sort of fuel, causing my intentions to run on something other than patient will.

Such thoughts leading to this included the thought of defeat before even beginning a resolution. Or Loki believing humans to be inferior to himself. Or needless violence, something humans were primarily excellent at.

Where once, I had to put on a brave face in front of my realm because we were just so damn chummy all the time and expected the same from their Queen, now on Earth, no one cared if you released your emotions. Actually, it was recommended, provided you did it in a safe manner.

And I was doing exactly that.

Years of pent up anger and tension between myself and the residents of my very own realm, seemed to flow out like a cascading waterfall. Again, not in a dangerous way. But in puffs, like smoke.

Although, considering I had the universe at my finger tips and already once on Earth, felt the tug to bring those abilities to the forefront, I knew I had to practice caution. Meaning even less dependence on the universe, if possible.

Which was disappointing. Not speaking to the universe felt like ignoring a parent you cherished. It provided me with wisdom and intellect I just couldn't seem to find anywhere else.

Shaking my head, I carefully struck up a cycle of inhales and exhales, the pounding in my head receding to a minimal throbbing as a result. Perhaps a full week or so of taking it easy might be enough to where every nerve didn't explode each time I touched something.

And my face...who knew? In my realm of relative health and little physical scarring, the consequences of such malicious actions really couldn't be clear.

But I know now to face it with a sense of honor and dignity. Provided I still have some after I repair the tensions between the two Asgardian brothers.

Former brothers.

Or not.

Honestly, I don't even know anymore!

TLOTLOTLOTLO

When I brought back the curtains this time around, expecting to catch a glimpse of my mighty fox man poached somewhere in the growing darkness of a calm evening, I found to my surprise, and I did scan for a good two minutes, that the man was gone.

A strange mixture of relief and anxiety entered me, but I beat it down. I knew what I would do, if things ever did come down to it. Why was I so finicky?

In fact, I didn't take into account that Loki might not even show up.

Which is exactly what happened.

I tried keeping myself busy with remedial tasks for the next few hours. Watching CSI. Reading Atlas, Shrugged by Ayn Rand. Cleaning already a spotless living space.

I even waited until ten o'clock, knowing this was the same time the God had found me the night before.

But Loki remained a no show.

So, he was either thinking over what occurred, or he simply didn't wish to be in my presence anymore.

Neither one bothered me, really. I preferred being alone with my bruises, just for the sake of having one night to properly get used to them.

But eventually, if he didn't find me in the nights to come, I'd have to find him. See if he was ready to face his brother. Time was of the essence.

Thinking of the place I hid their weapons, a Cheshire grin flew over my lips.

If all else failed, I would involve their weapons in the bargain. Perhaps threaten to throw them into the center of a dying star. Or into a black hole. Or sell it off to the Salvation Army. Now that was an idea!

An hour later and I was tucked snugly into bed, brain waves already snoring even though my eyes were sprung open.

For a moment, I glanced tiredly around the dim room, attempting to pick up on anything out of the ordinary in the atmosphere.

Instead, my room opted to stay patiently normal.

So into slumber I crawled, silently rejoicing at the withheld peace.

TLOTLOTLOTLO

One of the most common dreams I've been accustomed to having for the past three years, was of the day I gathered with Clatia in the city square of my realm.

The dream always seemed to move along unbearably slow because my subconscious by now, knew exactly what the Queen upon the balcony would say. Who her message would be to.

But at the time, I hadn't cared much about being there. The overall reason is a tad bit complicated to explain.

At the time, my only real concern was for Clatia. She shared a deep ambition of being picked to lead our realm and continue on a tradition of peace and love. Not only that, but she had studied and breathed this lifestyle. I simply helped support her dream in my own adamant ways with supportive words and joyous smiles.

Really, if not for her, I would have never been there.

Waking up, I immediately noted the chilliness inside my bedroom, clinging to my body like a pesky frost.

In my mind, the events of the dream replayed over and over and I felt my heart fill up with a twitching melancholy, some of it surely seeping in from the room as well.

Clatia's ambition to be the Queen, far outweighed my own at the time. I was so dismissive toward the position. So uncaring.

It was a joke, really.

Not the spreading of peace, of course. This was something I believed in whole heartedly.

No, the joke was in the manner the Queen was displayed. At least in all of the years I'd watched Queens take the throne. Perhaps these traits were only present during my lifetime.

Selfish and vain.

And yet I was the one picked. Was that sending a message?

Three years ago, I realized, some things just don't make sense very often.

Three years later and I realize maybe the biggest deception was they did, but never in the beginning.

Regardless, there is still immense guilt I carry from being picked over Clatia. Even if she was supportive after the occurrence, helping to steady my shocked form when the announcement was made, I still felt like handing over the position to her.

At times, especially now when my insecurities were at their highest, I honestly believe Clatia would have been the better Queen. The more able.

I clawed at an itch beneath my chin, eyes wanting to swivel back together and rest. Stop beating myself up for the way destiny ran its course.

Usually, the dream only stayed one time a night. After that, a world of possibility awaited me.

What was stopping me?

My head sank into the cotton pillow seconds later.

TLOTLOTLOTLO

"What happened to you?"

These four words were voiced harshly, concern vibrating ever so slightly inside them.

Blinking, I opened my mouth to respond, already wishing I hadn't opened the door this morning. And beating myself up for not covering the marks.

"Nothing," I denied, clutching my fist from swinging up in protest.

Really, I shouldn't have even left the warm sanctuary of my bed. It was so much safer in there.

But I knew who was behind the knock, and keeping the blonde out would only be prolonging the inevitable. Plus, show intense laziness on a Queen's part.

Although, if Loki showed up exactly as his brother did in the same apartment, I feared I wouldn't have a living space anymore.

"Thor," I tried again, more sternly, "it is nothing. Tripped, and fell on my face."

Just when I was sure he'd let it go, the man slammed the door behind him, vibrations bouncing off like a shotgun blast.

"If the door splinters, you're paying for it," I remarked firmly, shuddering at the thought of the landlady seeing the dismembered wood. She believed I was in the process of Alzheimer's already. No need to add bipolar disorder as well.

My mouth sealed back up when Thor started stalking toward me. With each step forward, I began a retreat, one hand extended before me in a warning.

"I'm fine, I promise."

"Do your eyes need washing?" Thor rumbled, keeping up with my pace. "You appear as if you've been-."

And suddenly, he paused, blue eyes narrowing.

I kept my expressions reeled in carefully, not wanting him to connect the source of the bruises.

But, it was too late.

"I will strangle him into submission!"

The last part came out in a near roar, and I couldn't help but be slightly impressed, even when I was petrified in place. If one was to put the thunder God into a cage full of lions, he would be the most true to his nature.

"Thor-," I tried.

"You let him do this to you?" he interrupted. "Had I known you were bluffing about protecting yourself, I would have never let you out of my sight."

Insulted, I clenched my jaw and marched forward.

"I am not constructed of glass!" I argued, index finger of my burnt hand nearly stabbing him in the chest. "And you do not know what occurred, so you have no reason to judge my strengths and weaknesses based on my appearance."

I was glad to find my tone just as biting as his own.

He blinked at this, eyes raking in my neck once again.

Then, a calm breath flew from his lips.

"Tell me what happened."

And this, I actually did consider expressing my amazement at. The strength it must have taken for Thor to say those words, despite the need to smash somebody's skull, really was quite inspiring.

Only when he was in a mildly less vicious mood, did I agree to his demand.

And so I began to explain, or at least outline, the topic of his brother's and my conversation late last night.

A few minutes of watching the tension seep out of his shoulders, allowed me then to begin recalling Loki's reaction to what I said to him.

The man listened far more patiently than I could have ever imagined he was capable of, but when I recounted the knee to the face and forced kiss, something dangerous flashed across his features. Like an abysmal, coal-black shadow sprinting across a pale cloud.

When I was done with the tale, arms crossed, and honestly, soul far less heavy at having revealed the events that had been keeping me in a constant state of unease for nearly an entire day, Thor did something else that surprised me.

Honestly, you'd think an Asgardian king couldn't surprise you repeatedly. Their motto had to be something to the effect of 'Eat, make love, and wield a big sword.'

But yet again, as in the alleyway, I was proven wrong.

He closed the few inches separating us, very much inside my comfort zone.

But instead of harming me, he reached out a few of his own stray, golden fingers and traced them over the black and blue around my throat.

"He will pay for this," the God vowed, his voice oddly soft for such a heated threat.

I swallowed, but this didn't deter the blonde's hand. In fact, he only took a step closer, fingers growing impossibly soft as they ghosted from side to side. They felt lighter than air. Lighter than helium.

Which was incredibly unique for a man of such brutish strength.

Desperately, I wanted to voice my admiration. But the technique in his fingers forced my head to expell only so much information at a time.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, hoping I didn't come off rude.

"Arrow boy told me of your condition," Thor explained, eyes following the trace of his fingers. "Should have informed me sooner."

"There's nothing you can do."

His fingers paused, eyes shooting back to me challengingly.

"Okay, okay," I recalled. "I suppose you could go charging after Loki, destroy Los Angeles again, and get S.H.I.E.L.D. to cover your butt. That's always a smart plan. But that will never heal the distance between you two."

Thor's expression turned sour for a moment.

"I'm willing to be a casualty in this negotiation," I informed. "It's the least I can do."

This time, the God dropped his fingers from my throat altogether, the warmth draining along with them.

"Why?" he demanded, eyes studying me. "You are risking your life to reunite a bond I am sure was broken long ago. Why is this so important to you?"

With each word, he began a quiet approach toward me, renewing our former predator-prey positions. That I really hadn't felt until his curiosity began manifesting itself. That's when the dangerous shadow I had seen, fled into the blue of his irises.

Of course I retreated, nervous about standing in place. The way his body arched forward, made it seem like he'd plow through me if I stood rooted to the floor.

For once, I actually decided to come clean. Not with the truth, of course. That would be revealing unnecessary information.

But a version of the truth that would successfully quench his curiosity.

"Are you ever afraid of dying alone?"

This wasn't what Thor expected. But to his credit, he did keep up.

"Whether I died alone or with a friend, it does not matter. Dying with honor would be a respectable death."

Nodding, because it was an answer I expected from an Asgardian king, I pondered over my next words carefully. I knew what I wanted to say, but Thor, always loved by his father and mother and the people of his realm, might not understand as well what Loki's envy and malice ignited from.

"Loki has nothing to feel honored about," I began. "He was never King, at least not one chosen and loved by the people. These same people who befriended him only to seek your approval. And I know it is not your fault, but in a way, you casted him out with your greatness. Followed blindly without wondering of the consequences. Forgot about him."

I paused, making sure Thor was taking in the words.

"So, Loki is left feeling rejected by his brother, unloved by his parents, dishonored by those he once thought acquaintances, if even that because I think he deduced their actions long before they revealed them. Has the knowledge that he is not even a son of Odin, thus everything is a lie in his mind. Nothing has provided him a sense of honor at this point, nor a true friend. Tell me...would you want to die this way? Madness eating at your mind and loneliness crumbling any new redemption you seek?"

Thor didn't answer immediately, chin jutted out in a semi-proud, semi-humble fashion. Great look, if you ever get the chance to see it.

"That is worse than death," Thor admitted slowly.

"This is what Loki feels, or at least a part of it. And I refuse to watch someone succumb to that kind of pain. To die alone with such sorrow in their souls. Do you understand?"

It took a while, but eventually, Thor nodded his head.

"And I'm not just referring to him," I pointed out. "You may have your honor, God of Thunder, but without his forgiveness, you are still very vulnerable. And very much in guilt."

There was an intensely crass silence afterward in which the expressions on Thor's face simply...stood immobile. As if his mind sucked them all in, only leaving a clean slate in its place.

"There is also the fact that if I let you two go at each other, you'll not only destroy yourselves, but the entire planet," I added.

I could never forget this prospect as well. Really, probably the root of the reason I first got involved.

Luckily, my explanation was enough.

"If my brother does this to you again, you are to tell me right away," Thor warned, eyes locked on to mine.

"This is supposed to be a message," I gestured toward my face.

"I am afraid I don't follow."

"The message, Thor, is go speak to the man! You have a better insight on him than I do. I am not going to take a busted lip and near suffocation for nothing."

Again, in the tips of my fingernails, even though I was partly joking, the briefest spur of anger licked its way over all five fingers.

Reel it in, girl. Reel it in. What am I even mad at anyway?

Just as I was to speak, say something to distract the tension igniting in my fingers, a ringing entered the room.

Let me mention first that Thor, yes, the one we all know as king of Asgard, was wearing blue jeans. I've never seen him appear so casual, and perhaps this had to do with the parting from his hammer. Certain outfits went with certain weapons.

Anyway, Thor reached into his front pocket and pulled out a cell phone. A grimace befell his features as he stared at the vibrating device for a few seconds.

"Let me," I offered, sensing his struggle.

He handed me the cell phone and I flipped it open, pressed the green button - I studied all of this from movies and being able to showcase the knowledge was rather exciting - and held it to my ear.

"Hey, bearded lady, get your thunder God ass back here. How long does it take you to take a piss? I wouldn't want to make Fury angry either. Haha, get it? Fury, angry. Anyway, hurry it up, unless you're still trying to woo your alien chick. If so, Banner owes me a twenty."

My heart, despite all of the unbearably tense and horribly ignorant things it's been through, decided to nearly stop altogether. It weren't so much the words as the expression Thor's face morphed into.

Like someone had whispered the naughtiest possible words into his ear, even outdoing his own guttural mind. The slant of his eyebrows down into a fury, the wide blue eyes like a portal, and mouth hanging slightly open like someone had taken a fierce crack at his jaw, dislocating it.

It wasn't too difficult to connect the fleeting expression with the cocky words emitted the cell phone.

And then, the device was yanked from my hand and Thor's face turned...well, appropriately enough, thunderous.

All I heard was the man mumble threateningly, "Stark."

Then, he held up a hand, which I assume was meant to indicate he'd be back.

Seconds later, the God had stomped out of my apartment.

Whoever this Stark fellow was, I really did not envy him at this moment.

Of course, there were also the words. The pesky words he'd said. The ones that had turned Thor's face into a tomato. And my own emotions to flip flop for a moment.

Was I really the alien chick Thor was attempting to woo?

Forget about it. This isn't your task. You know what Asgardian men are like.

It was easy to adopt this train of thought, but difficult to maintain it.

I'll admit, the feeling was euphoric. Someone liked me, if it were the case. Actually liked me.

The extent of that like was still to be determined and most likely would remain there, but the feeling enveloped me nonetheless.

And wouldn't you know it? My fondness for Thor only continued climbing.

TLOTLOTLOTLO

While the God of Thunder chewed out his caller, I risked a trip to the bathroom, just to see if I could do anything about covering the bruises. Was there a makeup coverage for shadow black?

Upon locking the door and placing myself before the dreaded mirror, I sighed.

Really, I was outstandingly plain. That couldn't have been the decision leading to my call as Queen.

Shoulder length, wavy, auburn hair. Sleepy, oval, chocolate brown eyes. Unusually short for beings of my realm, and entirely miniscule when compared to the two Gods. I'm sure they each had a good four inches on me. An ethereal, ivory pale was the skin pigment of choice, and I knew that were I under proper lighting for a long period of time, the skin tone would be noticed as unique, to say the least.

Probably ill.

This was the woman Jonathan became enlightened with...at least for an evening. While battling off his own loneliness.

A sullen laugh fell through my lips. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. But hey, an experiment is an experiment. You never know where your feelings lead you until you follow.

As my eyes took the time to really study each section of my face critically, the first time I've had the chance to do so in a long while, I found my eyes descending to the bruises like an anchor personally weighed them down.

One finger tried to gently caress the distorted outlines, but it felt like sandpaper compared to Thor's expert fingers. Which was an odd thing to say. In the matter of three days, I let the blonde God put his hands on me at least two times. This was certainly some interesting behavior on both our parts.

A gulp made the bruises bulge out for a second, and a dull pain rocketed down soon after.

"Admiring my work?"

Jumping up in shock, I twirled around behind me. Only to see the producer of the bruises, standing no more than five feet away.

Let me explain that normally, his presence wouldn't have startled me so much. But this was before I decided to contain the dependence I had on the universe. Meaning I had to forcibly deny the shifts I felt in atmospheric tensions and atomic particles.

Also, this was Loki. The last time we chatted, well...I've been speaking about those consequences the entire day.

Combined with this was my pacifism. I couldn't do a damn thing if he was to attack me. He'd immediately note it and further have information on a race not supposed to be exposed.

"I do not recall cutting out your tongue two nights ago," Loki mused, posture relaxed back on to my shower. And the ever present, slight creep up of the lips, never left him.

"Sorry," I answered, observing him cautiously. "I didn't see you in the reflection."

"Simple childish illusions. One learns them relatively young."

Nodding, I crossed my arms for lack of a better thing to do. Suddenly, my tongue seemed to be stuck in the same manner that my eyes were when finding the bruises.

"Were you young when you learned them? Or did sorcery appeal to you later on?" I asked, shifting back into a neutral mindset.

"You are straying from the subject," he pointed out.

"So are you," I quipped back. "Perhaps that is all you are, Loki. A combination of simple, childish, illusions."

Really, I don't know why I chose to wind him up. Hadn't I been practicing caution the entire day and a half?

Then again, the words simply tumbled out like they were programmed into me.

The God, of course, did not take kindly to the comment.

"We will see what sort of power I truly hold when your little, human boy is dead," he mutinously promised.

For a second, I had completely forgotten he was referring to Jonathan. And despite the threat, a grin shot up to my lips.

Oh what would Jonathan think if Loki tried to kill him?

Here, take my underwear instead!

Shaking my head in amusement, I felt a steady pressure of tension pass out. Now that is a tremendous feeling.

"You even think about it and I'll make sure you never get your staff back," I declared.

Another malicious smile sprang up from him.

"I am beginning to wonder if you are not as virtuous as you claim to be. I have been able to easily subdue you, and you have nothing to respond with."

His expression was open, very eagerly wanting an answer.

"Not every creature hears the drums of war. If that were the case, madness would rule the realms through and beings like you and I could never exist."

Loki ventured a step toward me, eyes set on the marksmanship he'd left me with.

"Madness already rules me."

I didn't speak for a moment, absorbed with the way his green eyes stayed in rigid immobility. Yet, they were able to project a world he left unattended as well.

Would releasing that world mean the end of Earth?

"I don't think you're completely mad."

Swiftly, Loki's eyes shot up to my own and an indulgent grin greeted me.

"And I believe you are with a comment such as that."

"You're quite normal, though," I tried again. "Who doesn't crave love? Or affection? Or respect? You may have misconstrued the way to attain it, but really, the only madness inside you is the kind forcing you to not reconcile with your brother."

As paced as the words were, I did find them to be true. In fact, it wasn't until I spoke to Thor, that I found the ability to comprehend this thought.

Both Thor and Loki wanted the endearing love of their father. At one point or another, neither of them were able to get it.

Thor did not attempt to murder his own family members when this happened. He approached it from a different angle.

Loki did the exact opposite, and twisted the angle to form something it never was meant to be in the first place.

It wasn't the person who was truly consumed by madness. It were the ideas they were willing to set forth, which defined this and helped destabilize the being.

"Speaking of my long, whimsical speeches," I mentioned, "have you thought over what we talked about two nights ago?"

The God didn't speak right away. His eyes were trained on me again in that unnerving way that made me feel like something devious was running through his mind. Which lets be honest, there probably was in constant amounts.

"I did not think I did much of the talking," he replied neutrally.

"You were busy with the assaulting," I agreed. "But after you were alone. Tell me, even one word enter your thoughts? Or sentence? Or paragraph?"

"I thought of what I did to you."

My mind willed my feet to stay in position as Loki pushed a few more inches toward me.

"Proud of it?" I wondered. "Thrilled?"

"Initially. Your claimed strength did not protect you."

"Do you really think I'd display it before you?" I indignantly questioned, raising a brow.

"I considered this. But if you truly had abilities able to outmatch my own, you could have rather easily, stuck the oaf and I together."

Tilting my head at his proximity, I shifted back on to the sink behind me.

"I believe in this unheard of action called choice. Strange, isn't it?"

"And yet you grow impatient with the proceedings," Loki observed, now a mere three feet away.

"I prefer tense. I've caught glimpses of the most tragic parts of you both. When these two meet each other, I fear how traumatic the encounter will be."

"There will be no encounter."

"Says the God without a weapon. I know you Asgardian types. Without some form of defense, legitimate, magic-free defense, you are vulnerable. I plan to keep you and Thor inside of this vulnerability until an encounter is reached."

"Then slaughter us, right?"

"Why would I do that?" I asked, crinkling my nose at the thought.

"You fear our strength."

"Oh for the love of...Jonathan," I expelled, nearly rolling my eyes at the comment. "I assure you if I was after your prestige, I'd have wiped you both out the day we all first met."

"And why did you restrain yourself?"

"Because your prestige does not interest me and-wait, aren't we just going around in circles? Not only are you denying the point of the conversation, you're simply hoping I'll spill something on accident. I assure you, I'm far more skilled at keeping my secrets."

"Pity," Loki mumbled, green in his eyes suddenly taking on a brand new vibrancy.

As soon as the invisible tug called for me, I knew his intentions.

Hypnotization. Or a weak form of mind control.

The God honestly believed such abjured sorcery worked in a realm like Earth.

No. I personally read up on this type of magic, and realms who were regarded as the first of creation, contained the oldest type of particles needed to instigate this type of connection.

Earth, or Midgard, was the last realm created. Thus, this universe teemed with life far younger than some of the planets.

Some human minds, yes, might feel their control slipping at the invading force. But if not compounded with older particles from a far more ancient universe, the ability had little expectation of working.

But despite all this, I decided to keep contact with his gaze for a few seconds longer.

His puzzlement was entertaining to watch. First, he furrowed his brows. Then narrowed his eyes. Followed by blinking. Until finally, shaking his head.

"Nice try," I offered.

"That is-."

"Outdated sorcery. Whoever taught you...well, let's just say you got ripped off."

"How old are you?"

Confused by the sudden question, I felt a smile tugging at my lips. I wasn't sure which age would frighten him more. My human age, or my realm age.

"Approximately 23, give or take a few months. I prefer take."

My confusion was further fed when a triumphant smirk fell over Loki's features.

"You are older than any of the realms in existence."

Now, my confusion morphed into full blown bewilderment.

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

I literally had to fight my body not to retreat when Loki suddenly flung himself in my direction. This time, he was more cautious and instead, found the sink behind me.

Each hand found a grip on opposite sides, caging me between the utility and his own body.

"Your blood. I detected something different about it," Loki reminded, his glee nearly manic. "I spat up some of the residue."

"Ew."

"But do you not want to know what I found out?"

"Not particularly. You're not making any logical sense."

Loki's frustration began to seep in at my lack of excitement.

"Your blood does not match any other being from any other realm," he answered forcefully, leaning toward me.

"Preposterous," I deduced. "I'm a mix."

This time, an audible growl passed the God's throat.

"Would it not be more effective now to simply admit your ancestry? Or the race you are a part of?"

"My mother may have been human. She claims to have fallen in love with a dark elf. The dark elf's mother was a demon and the father, a dwarf. What a match, huh?"

Briefly, I braced myself just in case Loki planned on hitting me again. His eyes were certainly demonstrating that emotion.

"Tell me what you are!" he demanded, forcing his body toward me.

Despite the inch or so of space between us, I remained calm. Which struck me as odd. Perhaps seeing others lose control, only made me feel a greater amount of it.

"Tell me or I will-."

"Kill me?" I suggested. "Torture me? You do that and you're not getting your weapon back."

"I do not care about it anymore," he snapped.

"Then you'll have no objections if I gave it to Thor?"

Honestly, I wasn't sure how much more infuriated I could make Loki. His patience was on the verge of plummeting into an abyss.

I'm sure this was not how he planned to talk to me this time around.

"If you even think about-."

"You'll kill me? Ah, so we're back to the circles."

Loki's response was cut off by the slam of my apartment's front door.

Immediately, I glanced to the bathroom door, eyes wide.

A part of me wished I had spent a bit more time cherishing the items in my home. This might be the last time I ever saw them if a battle were to suddenly occur.

"Lucy?"

Before I could even think to reply, I felt Loki grab on to one arm and pull me toward him. And since there wasn't exactly a magnitude of space left, I smacked straight into his cold form.

Another hand clutched my chin, forcing my gaze into his own.

"What is he doing here?" Loki growled.

Startled at the ferocity in his tone, I had to remind myself what exactly Thor was doing there myself.

"A therapist does not simply see one patient," I informed lightly. "Plus, he was concerned about me. Isn't that nice?"

Loki's grip only tightened, pulling my face impossibly closer to his. So close to the God, in fact, allowed me to see specs of purple inside the sea of green.

"You flaunt yourself off to him as well?"

"No. No flaunting. Just talking."

"I do not believe you," he hissed.

"I don't flaunt. I talk. Just talk. See? Blah, blah, talk, talk."

My cheeks were erupting in flames at my own display, but my own frailty decided this was the perfect time to make its paranoid return.

Quite easily, Loki could kill me, it reminded.

"Lucy? Are you well?"

This time, Thor's voice sounded right outside the bathroom door. Something softened in my heart at the concern.

And once again, a morsel of luck struck me.

"If you are lying-," Loki whisper warned, an intense mixture, I'll have you know.

"-you don't have to worry. I would never set my standards so low as to an Asgardian male."

Apparently, this was the right and wrong thing to say.

It convinced Loki of my purity, but insulted him, as shown by his frown, because of the jab I'd taken toward the realm he was raised in.

But the frown sent a shimmer of hope through me. If he got insulted by my jab, then he still cared about his realm.

None of his following words had the proper time to be said for a second later, my bathroom door was ripped open.

At this exact same time, Loki's body turned toward his brother, dragging me along with him.

More specifically, right back into his body, only my back was to his front now.

When I had the proper chance to take Thor in, Loki already forced a hand threateningly around my own throat, renewing the pain in my esophagaus to a dizzying degree, while another hand gripped into my hair. Which I honestly was getting sick of being tugged by.

"Release her, brother," Thor demanded.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Loki snarled, voice infusing itself into the mass of auburn waves beside his mouth. "Almighty Thor, ready to save the day."

"She has no previous conflict with you. Let her go."

Loki debated the request for a minute, gripping me tighter to him.

"I find that since she has been so very eager to force herself into our feud, she should be here to witness this," Loki explained.

Rolling my eyes, I continued to make my body remain slack. Even when something inside me was rumbling in protest at such a simple submission.

"Fantastic time to use my actions against me," I mumbled.

"And do you not enjoy the words pouring from her lips?" Loki chided, pulling me back by the hair so my face could be in view of his wandering eyes. "Do you still think me sane, Lucy? I hold your life in my hand, no incentive to keep from ending it. Tell me how this God before you can possibly repair a tie when he so easily craves to destroy others?"

A build up of fear coursed through my veins, but it was nothing compared to the instinct to defend myself, fueled by a part of me I had thought I was keeping tame.

"Destruction, Loki," I breathed out, "is easy. And lazy. And is a coward's only friend. If you truly want to succeed, try rebuilding. It's the more difficult path, but ultimately, the power you gain is insurmisable to what little you have now."

From this angle, Loki's expressions were difficult to read. But my words seemed to calm the raging tide inside me, something I found to be a more important issue. Or else both men would see a display of something quite dangerous and spectacular.

"Brother, let her go and listen to what she says," Thor pled. "I am here. We can begin right here, again. Right now."

Transfixed by Thor's earnest suggestion, and Loki's cold hand, previously around my neck, beginning a slow maneuver over my chin with the tips of his fingernails, I continued to banish the need to retaliate.

Not now. Not when they might finally throw aside their own problems.

An eternity seemed to pass by as the three of us sat unmoving inside the bathroom. I couldn't read either man's expression, but I hoped for the best. For one to begin talking. And the other one to begin listening.

Out of nowhere, Loki's fingers suddenly ceased their wandering.

Instead, the one hand tangled in my hair, pulled me back to a standing position. The other hand, latched on to my jaw, then yanked backwards toward his head.

Finally, his lips neared my right ear, only an inch away. In fact, so close that his mouth tickled, even when he wasn't quite touching down.

"Dare me a causa," he whispered.

Containing the shiver, I blinked, struggling for an answer.

"Amat vos," I replied shakily.

"Non satis," he dismissed.

But I didn't believe him for a second.

"Probare."

And just like that, I was flung out of the God of Mischief's hands.

Thor caught me easily before I face planted into the tile flooring, but in return, I knew he lost the chance to reach his brother.

By the time we both turned to the area, Loki was nowhere in sight.

And my entire body, well, it felt repulsively empty. Like a torch had been unimaginably close to lighting the frost gathered there, but at the last moment, pulled away.

"I'm sorry," I offered minutes after.

Thor shook his head, glancing down.

But he did not reply, seemingly just as vacant as myself.


The ending scene of exchanged Latin between Loki and "Lucy" was as follows. Loki : Give me a reason. "Lucy" : He loves you. Loki : It is not enough. "Lucy" : Prove it. This entire chapter was a roller coaster to write. I don't know if I'm happy with it, or if I'm angry. The relationship between "Lucy", Thor, and Loki is meant to be complicated and strenuous, but inspiring as well. She's intruded into their lives and attempting to bring the brothers back together. Obviously, there's going to be a bit of angst initially. But I hope to due away with it in the coming chapters shortly. Anyway, let me know your thoughts in a review!