My faithful readers who are surprisingly putting up with my crappy updating! Welcome to the 11th chapter! I'm so proud of myself for this one. Not so much the actual chapter and whatnot as much as actually updating like I'm supposed to! Again, crappy updating. I may or may not have a bad work ethic… Anywho, views are loved, reviews are adored, and my readers are wonderful!
Univerce
Final Farewell
"Why did I agree to this?" I grumble, staring at myself in the full length mirror. "I don't think this is a good idea."
"Why?" Frigga sighs, smiling softly behind me. "Is it the other residents of the castle?"
"They've gotten too obvious if even you noticed."
She shakes her head, that same smile widening slightly. "I've known since after the first feast you attended here. Even before we first spoke in private. They have never been rather secretive about their distaste around myself or my husband, only my son."
Her eyes go back to my outfit, humming lightly and frowning at something before reaching out to adjust a piece of my dress in the back. For a second my breath catches, is forced out, then eases as she lets go, satisfied by the look on her face with whatever it is she just did. Covering me entirely is the green dress that tailor had given to me, probably the only one that hasn't actually been worn outside this room.
The green is rather deep, not quite dark but not exactly light. And there's very little detail put into it, save a few layers of ruffling added to the chest area, making me seem a size larger than I actually am. With long, billowing sleeves, a high collar and dropping to my ankles, it's not really me – conservative, humble and surprisingly uncomfortable… Dresses in general…
Oh, what will the masses say when I walk in wearing this one? Probably something rude about being Loki's whore or subject me to insults to do with him. Rather annoying, really, since there's already a scowl crossing my face just from thinking about it. Okay, plan – if someone mocks or comments, they're being laid out flat within a few seconds. And, as a safety precaution against everyone else, my Bead System is coming with me, maybe the Oh Shit Bar, too. Frigga sighs patiently as I hop over books to my bed, picking up my belts and strapping them in place.
"Better?" she chuckles, smiling when I nod. "Good. Fair women should not have such unbecoming expressions."
"You really should have asked for a daughter," I sigh, forcing a smile over my still slight frown. "You've got too much mother left in you."
"After my boys?" she giggles. "Oh, no. The poor girl would never have survived living with the two of them. She would have turned out in the exact image of Lady Sif, if not more masculine since she would have to live here as well."
A grin spreads over my face at the thought of an even more boyish Sif. "What's wrong with that?"
Laughing together, we head for the door, somehow easily avoiding all the books still scattered about. She must have gained plenty of experience with this when Loki was a child, even managing to avoid toppling one of the more precarious stacks near the door. Damn, she's good! Aolani trails after us happily, leaping over every stack, and sometime from them. After that hazardous experience, Frigga takes my arm and guides me along through the hallways, my ninja kitty following quietly. And strangely enough, not a single person comments or whispers.
Nothing…
Hallelujah! I'm not being harassed!
"Something wrong?" Frigga chuckles as we reach the double doors of the dining hall.
"Not a thing," I sigh happily, snickering as my kitty cries happily. "So, would you mind explaining what's happened before we actually walk in? And why exactly you wanted me to wear the green one?"
My eyes go over the green dress one last time, comforted greatly by the Bead System in place on my arms and legs. It's rather lucky that my slippers for morning are comfortable and match with this dress… Don't judge me, dammit! I didn't have any green shoes! Besides, it's the only pair aside from my SHIELD uniform boots that Aolani didn't tear at.
She really hates shoes, apparently…
"Well," she hums, a smile crossing her face. "I might have pulled a few strings."
I can't help the slight flinch at her words – bad feeling, bad feeling, BAD FEELING! Something deep down is telling me that she pulled more than just 'a few' strings for whatever she's done tonight. Even deeper down, something tells me she went with the number one trick a woman can pull off to get whatever it is she really wants. Please tell me she didn't deny- Ew! Don't think about it, dammit! Ugh, that's disgusting.
"What exactly did you do, though?"
"Now, try to enjoy your time tonight. One never knows how exactly thing might work out~."
Oh no. Dear God, assuming you exist, please let this be nothing more than a bad joke gone horribly, horribly, horribly wrong. Please? Pretty please? With tons of sugar and cherries and sprinkles and chocolate saucey goodness on top? Hell, I'd even give whoever runs this damn place my entire stash of candy at my parents' home to have this play out harmlessly. From past experience, whenever someone uses that tone of voice, it can only mean major panic and overpressure are about to start adding onto my stress levels.
"Will I at least escape this with my dignity?"
"How should I know?" she giggles cryptically.
"Aw, man!"
It's safe to say that life hates everyone, some more than others, and always has a trick up the sleeve to ruin someone's day. For some, all it takes is a single thing gone wrong to absolutely destroy all the good they'd been building up from the start. Others take a little more damage to break down in a corner and bawl their eyes out. Lyra is neither. Instead she's of what would seem like a select few that takes every punch thrown at her and either throws one back with double the force, minimum, or waits until she's alone to let the damage show. But no matter what type of person it is, life manages to screw every one of them over at one point or another.
Today just happens to be one of the days life wants to be a bitch to the dear niece of Nick Fury. And she's not able to actually punch back at this moment.
Thor sits in his usual spot at the end of the usual table the she's pretty much memorized down to the direction of grains in the wood. Surrounding him are, of course, all his friends dressed up in their armor, as formal decorum requires. Save Sif who, being a woman, has dressed herself in a beautifully done full length, silver gown. Absently, Lyra comments to herself that she should have gotten a silver dress while at the tailors.
But her main concern upon getting closer, is the dark haired man sitting at the very end, a set of no doubt enchanted bracers latched onto his wrists. Clearly Odin decided to be lenient with him, at least for one night, and made him dress up. Instead of just the casual green tunic and black pants he'd always wear when the two spoke before, he's slipped on a black vest with silver lining details and tucked his shirt in. Along with that, she could swear he's wearing shoes now, actually boots rather than just a pair of socks.
To Lyra's ever growing dread, Frigga pulls her along down the row, seeming absolutely overjoyed that both of her boys are present. She's also rather happy that her magic trickster child is refraining from arguing with any of the others in attendance. Although not so happy that he's also refraining from interacting at all in the first place.
"Try to get along," the woman advises, as the two get closer to the end of the tables, a smug cat trailing behind.
Sif looks up briefly to her queen, doing a double take when she notices Lyra being pulled along. A genuine grin spreads over the female warriors face as the girl is pulled up behind Thor. With that grin dialing down, she nudges Hogun next to her who quickly looks up from the table he'd been staring blankly at to the scene in front of him. Seconds later, after studying the shifting girl carefully, he offers a small smile and nods in acknowledgment.
"Lady Sif, is something wrong?" Thor hums, staring at the people on the other side of the table in confusion.
Alongside Hogun, Fandral had looked up at the slight movement of his friends and is now snickering quietly behind his hand. Volstagg had looked up at the sound of his friends' amusement, quickly grinning after a hard swallow at the girl now present.
"Well, Thor," Frigga says softly, "I find it rather difficult to believe that she is such a difficult person to interact with. All it took was a simple knock on her door to pull her out of her room."
Her voice turns both of her sons' attentions around, one looking stunned, the other curious. Thor stares openly, wide-eyed, gaping at the girl now standing next to his mother. Loki, on the other hand, simply glances over her, raising an eyebrow at her in a very silent the girl only barely catches.
"Your mother is very persuasive," Lyra whimpers, head falling against her chest. "I had no choice…"
"That is a lie and we both know it," Frigga chirps happily. "Now, all of you get along. Thor, slide over so she can sit down."
Said man responds instantly, moving several inches over into the oddly empty space next to him and giving Lyra plenty of room. With a slight glare at the woman next to her, who just smiles serenely and walks towards the front table, the 'honored guest' of Asgard slips into her seat next to Loki, eye twitching. Within seconds, she squeaks quietly, clapping a hand over her mouth as she leans back to reveal a cat climbing into her lap and leaning up onto the table.
The reactions are slightly delayed, save one that goes along the lines of extreme curiosity. After a few moments of Aolani purring happily as she stands in her owner's lap, the warriors at the table burst into laughter – Hogun smiles quietly, of course – and Sif reaches over to scratch the cat's ears.
"She's grown rather well."
"Grown is an understatement," Lyra sighs, adjusting herself to sit more comfortable and give the cat more room. "I swear, she's the size of a lion cub, not a calico."
Aolani mews contently, dropping from the table edge and curling up in her master's lap with a soft purr. Sighing quietly, said owner just strokes the cat's head without complaint, content herself to just go with whatever the hell is happening. Because it simply wouldn't be worth fighting anything that Frigga has managed to conjure up for tonight. For all she knew, there was going to be a huge party in which everyone would get drunk, strip, dance on the tables and then hell would freeze over.
"I can tell this is going to be a long night," she grumbles quietly, wincing as Thor starts up a story in his booming voice. "A very long night…"
Next to her, Loki can only agree, frowning quietly as he balances his head in his head, elbow braced on the tabletop. At least he's used to the noise his so called 'brother' can make, therefore immune to the screeching volumes – it may or may not be a good thing.
"Aolani, no! Bad kitty!" I snap at my ninja cat.
She's climbed up onto the table, per usual, but this time aimed for Volstagg's food. The man has retaliated with a fork stabbed into the table, glaring down the hissing cat as he defends his plate of food. With several apologies spewing from my mouth, I yank the cat up from the table, ignore the protesting yowl, and force her back into my lap. There, she plops her head on the edge of the table, glaring down Volstagg as the large man smugly continues to eat. My ears catch the slight chuckle off to the side, barely glancing at the raven haired man next to me.
During the entire dinner, Loki has kept to himself. Thor's done his best to get the man talking, but it's pretty much impossible at this point. No matter how hard he tries, the master of lies refuses to even speak with the rest of Asgard. Personally, I would love nothing more than to talk to the resident trickster outside the stupid glass box they call a cell. But it's highly unlikely that he'll want to speak with even me.
Oh well.
"Lyra? Is something wrong?" Sif hums on the other side of the table, warily glancing at the man next to me.
"Nope," I sigh. "Just tired."
"How so?" Thor frowns. "You only arrived-"
"15 minutes ago. I'm well aware," I sigh again. "Don't look at me like that," I grumble at him as he stares blankly. "I've been counting in my head."
Fandral snickers quietly to himself, hiding it behind a drink. "Why exactly?" he asks innocently once he's put the glass down. "If you wish to know the time, surely you could just ask one of the servers for it."
At this point, a server almost randomly walks by, as if to prove his point.
"If you all shut up for longer than a second, you'd find out," I snap back at him, glaring.
Surprisingly, they do just that. Even Loki straightens up, eyes narrowing slightly as he stares down at the table. With the now present silence, the sound of mutters and whispers finally make it through the noise. Much like in the halls, the 'nobility' here in Asgard no longer care if the others surround me, insisting on insulting me no matter the cost. Thor's eyes twitch slightly as a grimace crosses his face as a particularly dark one reaches our ears, turning to me with an open mouth.
"Don't bother," I toss out quickly, smirking darkly. "I happen to have already gotten each and every one of them back."
"Wait, what?" Sif asks dumbly. "How so?"
"Give it a second," I snicker, unable to hold back the smile. "Did you know that counting is actually a strategy to handle anger, though?" I muse, trying to distract everyone. "My mother used to count to ten whenever Papa pissed her off. It never really worked, just made her madder to the point that, one time, she picked up a golf club and swung at him. I have a very violent family, apparently.
"Anyway, counting is also used to bend people's wills. I've seen several college teachers count down from ten to shut their students up. Usually threatening them with a pop quiz or something. The nice and quiet students, also usually in the front row, tend to get out of it because they listened. Not so much the ones in the back who don't know how to be silent."
My eyes catch the slight twitch of Loki's mouth, his eyes fixed down the table as he raises an eyebrow.
"And judging by the trickster's amusement," I hum, smiling sweetly, "I believe it's started."
"What has?"
A woman leaps from her seat, yelping loudly. Numerous people turn to her, some frowning, others curious, but each and every one of my friends, and the one who may or may not be, turn with shock. Seconds later, another person yelp, some part of his body banging against the table as he escapes his seat. Aolani, still curled up in my lap, starts to purr louder, the sound morphing a bit to sound like a chuckle. My amazing ninja kitty~.
Next, a few more people scream and yelp, bangs being hear throughout the room as the unaffected finally start to move. Those who are close to the harmed – scratch marks are starting to appear on their legs – quickly shoot from their seats, either sliding away or standing up with the others. An orange blur catches my eyes and I lift my hands to fold in front of my now grinning mouth. Don't want people to start suspecting after all. Another round of yelps, now growing more frequent, has me biting my lip.
"You are evil," Loki chuckles, keeping his face as straight as he can.
"I like to think the term evil is subjective," I muse. "It's a label, really. Just like the word 'normal,' you can't exactly describe someone as simply 'evil.' There's always an underlying factor to whatever they're doing."
"Interesting," the demigod hums as the groups start shooting up one after the other. "Care to explain what exactly it scratching all these people?"
Aolani full out snickers to herself, cementing my thought that she's no longer just a regular cat with super stealth. Alongside her snicker, I chuckle quietly, stroking her much like Doctor Evil would and watching with amusement as a woman behind me shrieks.
"I have no clue what you're talking about," I hum happily. "I'm just sitting her petting my adorable ninja kitty~."
Sif gives me a disapproving look. "Lyra, I thought better of you."
"Again, no clue what you mean~."
"Lady Lyra," Thor sighs. "Please stop whatever it is you are doing before you get in trouble."
A frown crosses my face, eyes catching Odin as he stands with his one good eye glaring over the attending masses. With a huff, I tap Aolani on the head, who continues her purring regardless as she cries happily. While the mass panic and hysteria go through the, my eyes shift to the 'Allfather' as he takes his seat again, still glaring around the crowd. Too bad he won't actually catch anyone doing anything.
"Now will you explain?" Sif demands, glaring at me herself.
My face lights up with a grin. "Sure!"
Carefully, I pull Aolani from my lap against her will and hold her up.
"Aolani did it!" I giggle quietly. "All those books in my room have a lot of neat tricks in them, including a sort of temporary cloning that I used on my sweet little ninja! Her copies ran around the room, under the tables, and scratched a few select people."
"Select?" Thor questions, not looking happy at all.
"Yep," I nod fearlessly. "I've done a lot of work in the past week. Your brother explained quite a bit about magic to me and I used that knowledge to find out who had it out for me since I got here. Turns out, jealous women and their boy toys who can't keep it in their pants. They've been spreading rumors and whatnot.
"In fact, did you see the woman with the bright blonde hair? Blue dress, too much jewelry."
"Of course," Sif huffs. "Lady Danine. Why?"
"She's the one who started the homosexual rumor," I grumbled quietly, glowering at the table. "I hope she gets an infection."
I glance up to see Sif staring at me evenly.
"What?"
"Nothing," she waves off. "I, personally, hope some of that jewelry falls off her. Knock her off balance and maybe into one of the dining tables."
A dark snicker escapes me at the thought. "Ah, the mess that would make. And how it would ruin her oh so pretty dress… She realizes that bright blue is not a good color to wear, right? Far too susceptible to stains."
"Who knows?"
Thor and the Warriors Three swallow hard, giving the both of us pointed looks.
"If I have done anything to offend either of you," Thor chips in quickly, "I apologize."
"Aw!" I whine. "Why would you do that!? That takes the fun out of everything!"
While the others start to laugh and joke again – thank my mother who gave me my childish humor – my eyes turn to Loki. He's at least started to actually eat instead of simply stabbing at whatever's on his plate. Good – he needs to eat this stuff while he's got the chance. I'm actually surprised that he's not eating a bit more quickly, considering he's been locked up for the better part of a couple years. Unless they serve him regular food, by Asgardian standards, in that glass box. And if so, then he's pretty damn lucky.
"What I'm curious about, though, is how she's even able to do magic," Fandral muses, catching my attention. "You are human, correct?"
"Of course," I hiss at him, kicking him under the table. "What the hell is wrong with you, womanizer?"
"Uncalled for," he whimpers, teeth digging into his lip.
"So was the question of my humanity!"
Stupid womanizer.
Morning… I hate mornings. Especially this morning. Alright, one last check over everything…
The books are stacked up over in the corner, hopefully in a sort of relevant pattern that will make the librarian's job easier. My bags are packed, dresses included which Frigga had insisted on, and Aolani is sat in front of her cat carrier, staring disdainfully at it. All my equipment is either strapped to me or in the briefcase provided – strangely enough, wearing that pendant, too. My journals have been catalogued, the newer entries that haven't been typed up in the electronic copies coming with me so they can be. Thor will bring them back once that's done. And my notes on all the magic texts have been slipped into my luggage as well.
What else? Oh, right! One last journal entry…
With a sigh, because this has to be a really good one, I pull the notebook from the collection of journals and flip it open to the back. There's about seven sheets of paper left in it. Well, that's definitely plenty of space. My eyes absently move over to the small stack of notebooks. Only three of them are there, one filled with only encounters in the prison, another stuffed full of things I thought up of while here in Asgard, the third a sort of mashed up version of the first two. Hopefully that will give him enough new material to read…
As if. He's a demigod who has lived at least a thousand years and is currently sentenced to existence in prison. If anything, these'll probably become nothing more than trash to pass the time with. Assuming he reads them at all.
Crap, last entry! Write, dammit!
… Where to start… Uh…
Well, this is it, then. Okay, that's probably a terrible start to this, but it's the best I'm gonna get, so whatever. Personally, this didn't happen at all the way I expected it to. My uncle explained that this would be a summer project of sorts, something that would take up all three months of the break. Well, two and a half, actually. He was probably going to have Thor take me back to do scholarships and whatnot. That's not important, though. The point is, this last week was not supposed to go this way, and my last day here was not supposed to be spent getting ready for a dinner that wasn't anywhere near as fun it could have been.
Thor just had to ruin that for me. At least I now have a small understanding of why he ticks you off so much. Maybe. Probably not.
Anyway, this is the very last entry you'll ever have to read, I swear. So I better make it a good one, huh? Let's start with the simplest thing I could possibly say: you were an idiot. There, I said it. You tossed out your family because of something as silly as being covered in a shadow. You practically killed your mother when you fell into this abyss place you disappeared into. And not only that, but tossed away what little connection to your home you had left when you attacked Earth, Midgard, whatever the hell you call it. Frankly, it was a stupid move.
But you probably realize that already, considering how you have nothing but time to think. On the bright side, though, you've definitely learned something out of it all, right? And you at least get to have your family back, sort of. Your mother still loves and cares for you, you know. And your brother, even if you don't want to admit he is, would love nothing more than to have you back as part of the family. Odin probably couldn't give a rat's ass, but let's be honest here – he isn't much of a father. Do you really want keep trying to make a man happy when he obviously doesn't care? Was he even your father to begin with? My opinion, no he wasn't. Then again, you probably don't care about my opinion.
Wow, this is a sucky entry, huh? I've had so many entries in these journals that are probably far more meaningful than this one. This is supposed to be the nice little bow on it all, too. Crap, this is terrible work.
You know what, screw it. I'm skipping over the bullshit I've already told you. You can reread that crap if you really want to or not. I don't give a damn anymore. So here's something that I know you haven't heard anywhere else in my entries, unless you've been reading between the lines like you probably already have. In which case, this should be the blunt bat to the head.
You're not as alone as you think you are Loki. People do care about you, whether you like it or not. They don't hate your guts for the things you've done, no matter how upset they may have been with you. Your mother is a prime example, your brother another one. I'm sure Sif and the Warriors care, too, even if they've buried it so deep that they refuse to acknowledge that. The people you grew up with, whoever they are, still care if they're worth anything. If they aren't assholes, either. That, too.
And there's always
I frown deeply at the now crossed out words. With a shake of my head, my fingers drag the pencil back and forth through the words, covering them up completely with as much graphite as possible. That should do the trick, hopefully.
Just, please, try not to think too poorly of yourself. People still care, no matter how it seem. Good luck, Loki. Hopefully you'll get a chance, assuming the ass of a man called 'king' here listened to me when he first met me. Oh, and one last thing I think you'll like.
'Second chances are something we all crave. And even the cruelest child deserves one, just as much as the kindest. No one chooses who gets a second chance – give them all one and be surrounded by friend or give them to no one and be alone.' My mother was rather fond of giving me life lessons. This is the one that you have to thank for meeting me. Or curse, depending on how you see it. I like to think it's sound advice, and thank her for it every day.
A knock at my door has me flinching, turning to it as Thor appears in the doorway, sad smile on his face. With a bright one on mine, I ask for one more second, writing one last thing down on the page before packing it up in with my luggage. That's the last time it'll ever be written in, no doubt. And hopefully, assuming Loki reads it, it'll have a great deal of impact. Though probably not. Words often do very little in sprints, and only truly have effects in the long run. It'd be a miracle if he even bothers to touch the stupid notebooks.
"Ready," I sigh, pulling out the handle on my suitcase.
Thor pats me on the shoulder, taking the cat carrier from my other hand. Next to me, Aolani mewls sadly, rubbing her head against my knee. She had a strange growth spurt last night, growing from around the middle of my shin to the middle of my leg. Maybe being a ninja cat isn't the best option for her, since she's so big now. With a soft smile on my lips, I reach down and scratch at her ear. With everything packed up, and the notebooks now in Thor's hands, we head out of the room, cleaned of anything personal. Funnily enough, it was pretty hard to get my suitcase closed – the dresses took up quite a bit of space…
"One last thing," I pipe up before closing the doors. "Aolani, bed!"
The cat dashes over and hops up onto the comforter of the bed, perching happily on the edge, her tail swishing back and forth over the side. With a small grin, I pull out my little camera and slip it onto my ear, setting it in place before clicking the button above the lens. The scene freezes before me, my cat the only thing that marks the room as mine. That done, I whistle for my baby girl, who leaps down and trots out of the room.
One pull and the door closes. Together with Thor and the other warriors, I stalk towards the entrance of the palace and those godforsaken stairs. Along the way, so many pictures are taken, mostly of Aolani hissing and clawing at the unfortunate residents that tick her off. Those are the best ones, to me.
He stares up at the ceiling, almost glaring, actually. Of course, he knew already that she had left that morning, was even informed by the guards who brought him his meals that she left before breakfast was even finished being made. Didn't want to deal with people, probably. But that didn't make anything better. Despite himself, he'd actually enjoyed talking with her, having some sort of interaction outside his books and sometimes messing with the guards. What could he say, really? She was interesting.
"I see no error here," Lyra stated simply, inspecting her nails. "The only thing I do see here is a pane of glass and a man who tossed away his freedom."
Rather brave, really.
"Why the hell are you down here, again?" he grinded out, glaring at her.
A grin spread over her face, eyes memorizing the way his face twists at the sight – slight shock mixed with annoyance, which annoyed him even more.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she tossed back at him. "You should be more careful, Loki. You're slipping."
Even got past his personal barriers, to his extreme aggravation.
"Alright then. Blood pours from the wound regardless of the numerous layers of bandages placed over it. Even with the pressure the medic places on the injury, the flow does not stem until it the poor soldier's face drains completely of color."
He honestly couldn't stop the slight flinch deep down. Nor stop it from showing in his expression. That had truly surprised him.
"Something wrong?" she asked with a smirk.
"No," he huffed, resetting himself against the wall of his cell.
"If you say so…" she replied back, having the nerve to keep smirking. " Medics are supposed to be used to such a sight – people die every day, their teachers tell them. Yet this one boy, a child barely out of his teen years, is the one that the so called God who guides them has decided to take today. He also happens to be the only soldier brought to the medic who will die in the man's care. Truly, fate and luck do enjoy screwing with people's heads and forcing them to their utmost limits."
And as she continued to read, he thought quickly about the ways this girl seemed one way yet proved to be completely different. Definitely not a regular woman.
Surprised him at so many different turns. He can still remember that annoying rant she had about those damn 'Elder Scrolls,' whatever the hell those were. Even after hearing her tell their history, he still didn't quite get it. What did dragons have to do with a scrolls? And what good would one be if it blinded a person upon reading it?
"One last thing before we go!" she cheered, pulling something from her belts. "Just a last memento before I leave!"
"Dammit," he groans. "I hate her. I truly hate her," he lies to himself.
