Chapter song: Fly So Free by Luella & the Sun
The early light of dawn cast the kitchen in a light shade of blue, making it appear cooler than usual. There was a stillness in the air that only came with the beginning of Winter. The chill crept through my bones, seeping into my skin, and aching its way into my already tired mind. Last night was horrible. I was once again swept into an endless cycle of traumatizing flashbacks, all at the hands of Ronan. When I thought it couldn't get any worse, I watched my mother become engulfed in a sea of flames. I could still hear her agonized screams as bright as day. My dreams were becoming worse every night, and no amount of pills could stop them.
I was sitting at the barstool playing with the skin of an overly-ripe banana when I heard Sif's melodic voice cut through the silence.
"Good morning, captor."
I rolled my eyes and slouched even further into my lousy posture. "Don't call me that."
"But it's true. I am your captive; therefore, you are my captor." As she spoke her British accent became more prominent, full of an elegance I could only dream to imitate. She walked around the room, picking up objects every now and then to inspect them and placing them down with the same unamused look.
I ignored her comment and allowed my curiosity to indulge. "Where are you from?" I asked, watching a smile tug at her red lips. She really was beautiful.
"Far, far away," she said, now smelling one of my candles. Her expression wrinkled into one of distaste. "A different world compared to here," she muttered to herself.
"How's that?" I asked irritably. Judging by the way she glanced uneasily at me, I don't think she intended for me to hear that last part.
After a second she laughed lightly and smiled. "It was only a joke." Her hips rocked slowly from side to side as she made her way into the kitchen, her eyes never breaking from mine. There was something about her that pulled me in and set my teeth on edge at the same time.
"So, tell me. How long am I to be your guest?" She asked. Her tone was an impressive combination of amusement and annoyance.
"As soon as I'm sure you're going to keep your mouth shut," I replied, mimicking her tone. Her smile deepened.
"There is nothing I can do nor say to assure you of that," she said matter-of-factly. "But tell me, why would I announce a crime I myself am involved in?" I frowned and looked away, trying to think of a good response. I didn't have one.
Sif shuffled in her stool next to me. Her hand hovered over the fruit basket before us, her pale fingers danced in the air with silent contemplation until landing on a bright red apple. A loud crunch filled the room as she bit into the juicy fruit. My mouth watered in response, and soon I was eating an apple as well. Sif swiveled her stool in my direction, propped her face in the palm of her hand, and watched me with a curious expression. All the while, she continued eating her apple with a grace I had never seen before. Compared to her I ate like a starving pig.
She leaned in ever so slightly and let her eyes wander across my face. "Sleep well?" she asked with a cheeky smile.
I blinked once and swallowed my bite. My unease must have been apparent because she immediately retracted and cleared her throat as one does when they are feeling uncomfortable.
"You appear tired," she said, now completely serious.
"Thanks," I mumbled, pursing my lips with annoyance.
"I meant no offense," she said, her eyes lingering on my profile. "Would you like to talk about it?"
I shook my head and placed the half-eaten apple down, my appetite seemingly vanished. Just as my sullen thoughts began to resurface, Vernon entered the kitchen and placed himself on the opposite side of the kitchen island. He gave me a reassuring nod and returned his gaze to Sif, who was now openly smirking once again.
"What is so funny?" I grumbled, unable to contain my irritation.
"He didn't tell you?" She asked. Her eyes flickered back and forth between Vernon and I, growing narrower by the second. "I see," she said, lowering her gaze.
Vernon shifted on his feet and remained quiet. I stared expectantly at him, but when he avoided eye contact with me I focused my attention on Sif again. I patiently waited for her to finish her bite of apple, but after a few seconds I realized she was chewing at an abnormally slow space, purposely delaying her response. Finally, she was done.
"Last night as I was being kindly escorted into my cell, your brute of a friend tore my blouse in half," she said coolly. "Oh, don't worry," she quipped, seeing the horror on my face. "It was an accident, I'm sure."
"Vernon!" I gasped, my eyes now wide with shock. As I looked closer at Sif's flowy, green blouse, I noticed it had been tied together in the middle, right between her breasts.
I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. "Why would you do that?"
"It wasn't like that," he growled.
I gave him an incredulous look. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I need to speak to you alone," he said, emphasizing the last word. He marched out of the room and glanced behind his shoulder to make sure I followed. Sif shrugged her shoulders, apparently not too upset about the incident.
I hesitantly joined Vernon who stopped in front of the large window, arms crossed and lips tense. When I held my hands out in an expectant manner, he took a deep breath and regarded me closely.
"She was a man last night, not a woman," he started, his expression completely serious. I vaguely noticed my mouth was hanging open. He stopped and rubbed his eyes, visibly frustrated.
Is he losing his mind?
"Listen," he said with more determination. "I spent decades mastering the art of disillusionment. The Kree already have a natural immunity to magical enchantments. I know what I saw," he urged.
I didn't know anything about Vernon, but I was seriously starting to doubt his sanity. The simple fact that he works for Ronan kept me from saying so aloud. "So," I hesitantly began. "She was a man, and you decided to tear her shirt off?" I tried to keep my face as placate as possible.
"I was trying to prevent him from turning away. You see, once an illusion has been disrupted, it cannot be unseen. The enchantment faulted for less than a second, but it was enough time for me to see him. By the time I managed to see his face again, he had already recast the spell."
"And what did she say when you asked her about it?" I asked calmly.
He gritted his teeth and reluctantly looked away. "She locked the door before I could interrogate her." Thank God, I thought to myself. In less than twenty-four hours she's been attacked by three men.
"Well, she doesn't seem too upset about it," I said, remembering the smirk on her face. "What else happened?" There is something missing from this story.
He took a deep breath and locked his eyes onto mine. "I returned to her room later that evening and…" he stopped and swallowed uneasily. I raised my eyebrows at him, silently urging him to finish the story.
"She was waiting for me… unclothed," he finished quietly.
"Did you have sex with her?" I asked loudly. He immediately recoiled and shook his head.
"No, of course not. It was an act, don't you see? She – he – was trying to maintain his cover. I left when I realized what its intentions were," he said with a hint of disgust.
I swallowed uneasily and stared at him, trying not to show the worry I felt for him. He was seriously suffering from some strange delusions, and I sure as hell was not equipped to deal with them.
"I saved her from getting raped last night," I said quietly. Vernon's gaze hardened at my words. "I don't think that was an act."
"I know what I saw," he said more stubbornly. "I must meet with a fellow colleague and acquire the proper tools."
"Tools?" I inquired, feeling more frightened by the second.
"Yes. A truncheon will do," he said in thoughtful manner. Upon seeing my confused face he further elaborated. "It erases memories, and it will reveal the sorcerer's true identity." I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.
I think I hit him harder than I realized.
"If we leave tonight we can make it to his station by tomorrow morning," he said, rubbing his chin.
"How about you go and I stay here with her," I said, hoping he wouldn't argue. I was not about to submit that poor woman to his irrational behavior and weird, Kree technology. Seeing that he was about to argue I spoke before he could. "Come on. You don't think I can handle her?"
"We don't know how dangerous it is," he said, his voice deadly quiet.
I nodded somberly and played along. "If she really is dangerous she'll fight us, and that could result in a major news story my family really doesn't need right now," I said, rubbing my brow. I looked up to catch him looking around thoughtfully, clearly losing his resolve.
"If you leave me alone with her," I said slowly, "she won't be suspicious of us." I saw the realization flicker in his eyes before he began slowly nodding himself.
"Yes, I see," he said, his voice picking up. "We will have the advantage. It is unaware that we know. We will keep it that way."
I nearly sighed with relief.
Shortly after, Vernon slipped out the door quietly and I was left alone with Sif. With the house staff gone for the week I didn't have to worry about her being seen. When I returned to the kitchen, she was still sitting on the bar stool, staring expectantly at me.
"He seemed upset," she said seriously. When I remained quiet she gave me a prying look.
"Just a stomach bug," I lied. "I gave him the day off." Her expression remained unmoving as her eyes boar into mine. I rocked back on my heels once and looked around uncomfortably.
"OK. Let's get you some new clothes. Those have been through enough," I said finally. Sif slowly stood up and followed me through the house in silence.
Once inside my room, she stopped and said, "What do these carvings mean to you?" She was pointing to the dark wood wall. I paused in front of my closet door and maintained a straight face.
"Nothing," I said nonchalantly. "They're just random lines." Sif traced her fingers along the cracks, moving her lips along with it as if she were reading them.
I began quickly pulling clothes out of the closet and piling them on my bed, hoping to distract her from whatever the hell she was doing. I threw the last stack down harder than normal, causing her to look up. She smirked and walked over to the bed, running her fingers along the fabric in a careful, inspecting manner. She selected a handful of dresses, all of which were couture and one of a kind. She's weird, but she has good taste, I thought as I returned the unwanted clothes to the closet.
When I reentered my bedroom I was surprised to find Sif standing stark naked in front of my full length mirror, holding one of my dresses up to her body. I stopped where I stood when my eyes settled on her bare back, which upon closer inspection was scattered with long, silver scars, some obviously still fresh. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, causing me to blush with embarrassment.
"Sorry," I muttered, walking over to my dresser. I pulled out several pairs of panties and bras, not needing to ask what size she wore. With my eyes glued on the floor I began making a beeline to the door, trying to give her some privacy.
"Stay," she said softly. "I could use your help." I fidgeted with my hands and backtracked my way into the room, sitting down on the chaise lounge in the corner. The sound of Sif humming quietly caused me to look up. She was wearing one of my favorite green dresses, unzipped so the trace of her spine could be seen. Even unfastened, it looked better on her than me any day.
I slowly walked up behind her and made a gesture to the zipper, causing her to smile. I remained quiet as I closed the back of the dress, noticing every raised line along the way. My finger brushed along one particularly painful-looking scar, and I immediately flinched, realizing my mistake.
"It's natural to be curious," Sif said softly, watching me closely. I remained standing behind her, unable to move.
"How did you get them?" I asked. Her cool eyes seemed to grow icier by the second.
"Surviving," she answered bitterly. "Something tells me you know what I speak of." That clenching, suffocating tightness returned to my throat.
With trembling fingers I unbuttoned the top of my nightshirt and slowly turned around, letting the fabric slip down my shoulders and back. From behind, I heard Sif inhale deeply. As silence filled the room I found myself growing more self-conscious by the second. I hastily pulled my shirt back up to hide the evidence of my torture, only to feel Sif's fingers prevent me from doing so. I paused with my back to her, not even breathing to make a sound. Then I felt her arms wrap around me from behind, incasing me like a warm, soft shell. The comforting embrace dissolved me of any discomfort I might have felt, because in that moment I felt safe. I didn't feel the need to be strong, or at least pretend to be. I was me, completely and utterly broken me. It wasn't until I felt her arms tighten around me that I realized I was crying.
"Oh, God. I'm sorry," I whispered. I quickly wiped my wet, salty face and pulled away from her. "I don't usually cry in the arms of a stranger."
She gently tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and said, "Even the strongest link is nothing without a chain." I raised an eyebrow at her, not understanding the analogy. With one hand on my shoulder, she leaned in and looked me seriously in the eyes.
"You're lonely," she said quietly, her voice full of understanding.
"I'm – I'm not – " I began.
"I am too," she said, making me stop. The vulnerability in her eyes had me at a loss for words. I looked away after only a few seconds, unable to face the same look I had seen in my own eyes for so long.
"Come on," I mumbled grudgingly. "We need a drink." I grabbed ahold of her wrist and led her up to the rooftop.
For hours we sat by the poolside watching the steam rise from the water, sipping on the best wine money could buy. It didn't take me long to discover Sif had a tolerance that would put Ronan to shame. We were on our fifth bottle of wine yet she remained perfectly composed and upright. If it weren't for the gleam in her eyes I would have suspected she was completely sober. I on the other hand was nowhere near sober – nor did I appear to be so – and Sif was becoming more inquisitive by the minute. I didn't mind though because I enjoyed conversing with someone other than Vernon – Marvell – whatever I was supposed to call him.
Our conversation started off light and innocent, like any might sound with a stranger. I learned her favorite color is green. She enjoys horseback riding, chess, and reading anything she can get her hands on. She could speak over a dozen languages, including some I couldn't recognize. For a while we made a game of it. She would ask me a question in another language – French, German, Russian, Spanish, Italian – even Latin – and I would answer until I exhausted my vocab, much to her amusement. Despite her arrogant, pompous attitude I found her intriguing and genuinely enjoyed her company.
It wasn't until my ninth glass of wine that she asked the question I had been dreading all night.
"How long have you had your gift?" She asked quietly, this time in English. My hopes of her forgetting the other night were quickly dashed away. I guess you don't really forget someone shooting yellow blasts of energy out of their hands.
I looked up from my glass and stared at her. The smile which normally tugged at her lips was absent, now replaced with a serious look of concentration. With a sigh of resignation I leant back in my lounge chair and let my eyes wander across the skyline. Shades of orange and pink echoed throughout the city as the setting sun cast its light upon the abundance of skyscrapers. As I gazed upon the beautiful scene I couldn't help but remember the dream – or rather the nightmare – I had the other night. I found myself frowning as I recalled the images of blazing, blue fire and strange creatures flying through the air.
"I've upset you," Sif said regrettably.
"No," I said with a frown. "I was just thinking about a dream I had."
"It wasn't a pleasant one by the looks of it," she said, watching me carefully.
"No," I agreed. "The city was being attacked by aliens or something. It felt so real," I trailed off.
Sif paused. "Aliens?" She inquired, her voice low and quiet.
"Yeah, really ugly ones. They were tall and muscular – not like the kind you see in movies all the time. No, these were sophisticated," I muttered, trying to remember details. "They wore armor with gold and had these flying jet skis."
"Jet skis?" Sif asked confusedly.
"You know, like a motorcycle for water," I said with a frown. How does she not know what a jet ski is?
"What else?" She pressed.
"Their spaceships looked and moved like snakes. It was weird," I mumbled, returning to my wine.
"What happened?" She asked more urgently.
I glanced over at her and noticed how wide and anxious her eyes had become. I frowned uneasily and said, "The city was on fire. People were screaming. It was horrible."
Sif swallowed and relaxed a bit. "They were winning?"
"I don't know. I woke up," I muttered uncomfortably, looking out into the city again. "It was just a dream," I added dismissively.
"Yes, of course," she agreed quietly.
Sif remained unusually quiet for the next few minutes. More than once I peered at her through the corner of my eye, curious as to why she had all of a sudden stopped talking. Her eyes were narrowed deep in thought, and her fingers tapped anxiously on her glass. Suddenly, she looked over at me.
"So," she said more sternly. "How long have you had your gift?"
I rolled my eyes at her persistence. "Why does it matter?"
"It's quite obvious you're untrained," she said before taking a sip of wine. My lips tightened with annoyance. "I can help you," she added reassuringly.
This time I laughed openly at the idea, and Sif glowered in response. She straightened herself up and leaned closer in my direction. "Your gift is – "
"Stop calling it that!" I barked. "It's not a gift – it's a fucking curse."
Sif scoffed and shook her head with disbelief. "You're a fool if you truly believe that. I've seen what you can do – people would kill for such power."
"Well, not me. I've killed enough," I replied bitterly, and finished my wine. Before Sif could utter another word I stood and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and headed for the stairs. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, got it?"
Only in the wine cellar did I allow myself to feel what I had been suppressing moments earlier. The faces of those I had killed were now solid and clear: Forezzo, Jul-Linn, fat-rapist man. Regardless of whether or not they deserved to die, their deaths weighed heavily on my heart. I was kidding myself to call what happened in the alleyway "self-defense" because those men didn't stand a chance against me. I was a murderer. How many more would die by my hands?
Just then I heard the cellar door close behind me, and I suddenly became aware of how wet my cheeks had become. As I wiped the tears from my face Sif calmly said, "I'm only trying to help you."
I meant to laugh but it came out sounding like a deranged wail. "How can you help me?" I asked, spinning around. "If I recall it was me who saved your ass last night – not the other way around. This," I seethed, holding out my hands, "can't be controlled!" My hands began glowing yellow again, much to my dismay.
Instead of running away Sif stepped forward and extended her hands towards me. "Are you crazy? Get out!" I shouted, panicking as she began cornering me. I remembered what happened in the shower aboard the Dark Aster, and I had no intentions of letting that happen again. If I could render Ronan unconscious without even trying, there was no telling what would happen to a human.
"Listen to me," Sif urged, quickly grabbing ahold of my hands. "And breathe," she grunted. I tried to pull away, but her grip somehow remained tight on my hands. As I looked on in horror I could feel my hands draining the energy from inside her, filling me with more power by the second.
"You can – control – it – just – concentrate and breathe," she groaned in pain. "Focus on your breaths, and – imagine with each inhale – you are – drawing in the light – and with each – exhale – you are pushing out – the – darkness," she gasped, and dropped down to her knees.
"Let go," I begged. "I'm going to kill you."
Sif shook her head and looked up at me, anger in her eyes. "Concentrate," she growled deeply.
I closed my eyes and did as she said, breathing deeply and concentrating on drawing in the light. "Good," I heard her whisper almost immediately. A second later she sighed deeply with relief, causing me to open my eyes. When I found my hands had returned to normal, I couldn't help but gasp with amazement.
Sif remained on her knees slouched over with exhaustion and I quickly pulled her up, and grabbed ahold of the sides of her face.
"You're fucking insane. I could have killed you," I said, still in disbelief. She smiled faintly and placed her hands on my shoulders, leaning onto me for support. "Where did you learn that?"
She opened her tired eyes and smirked. "You aren't the first gifted individual I've come across."
Before I could ask another question, she closed her eyes and swayed on her feet, forcing me to catch her in my arms. If I didn't know any better I would have guessed she weighed five-hundred pounds, but I knew that couldn't be possible. I eyed her unconscious body uneasily and came to the conclusion that the wine was somehow affecting my strength. It still took little to no effort to haul her up the stairs and tuck her into bed.
When I entered my own bedroom, I picked up my cell phone and saw that I had several missed calls from my mother and a voicemail. I hit the play button as I pulled out a bottle of wine from the beverage cooler next to my bed, this time drinking straight from the bottle.
"Hey sweetie. Your father and I will be in town tomorrow afternoon. He's going to make one last speech before the election, and he really needs you there. You've made it clear how much you dislike going to these events, but this is important and it's the last one, I promise. We'll swing by at 1:00 to pick you up. Love you."
I tossed my phone onto the bed and took another large swig from the bottle, letting the burn dull the annoyance I now felt. It was almost laughable how my parents assumed I had nothing planned tomorrow, and even if I did they knew I would cancel for them. I guess when you don't have much of a social life your time is seen as easily expendable.
It was nearly midnight and I was sitting on the rooftop, once again looking at the city with a dreaded feeling in the pit of my stomach. For some reason I couldn't shake the suspicion that my dreams were more than just dreams. But what else could they be?
"Ready for lesson two?" I jumped from my chair at the sound of Sif's voice.
"Damn it," I hissed as I spilled wine down the front of my blouse. I shot her a dirty glare before yanking the sullied garment off and tossing it to the ground.
"Have you been drinking all night?" She asked with a frown. When I shrugged my shoulders she laughed coldly in response. "But of course you have."
"Hey – drop the bitch-ass attitude," I slurred. "You don't know me." Much to my embarrassment I tripped over my own feet and fell to the ground, crushing the wine bottle beneath me.
"You're quite possibly the most pathetic woman I have ever met," she said, eyeing me with distaste.
As if it couldn't get any worse, I began bawling like an idiot on the ground, shirtless and soaked in red wine. Sif grimaced and shook her head, disgust apparent in her features. I didn't understand why she was suddenly being so cold to me. I also didn't understand how she remained perfectly fine after killing a man, yet here I was drowning myself in wine, tearing myself apart over a would-be rapist.
I clumsily stood up and pointed a finger at her, suddenly angry. "You – you killed him but you aren't even… upset."
"Killed who?" She asked innocently, cocking an eyebrow.
I swayed where I stood, too shocked for words. Sif smiled widely in response and began casually strolling towards me, circling me like a shark. "You really are crazy," I whispered, suddenly feeling nervous.
Sif frowned with mock disapproval and wagged a finger at me. "I've warned you not to use that term. Ah yes, you don't remember. Silly me," she said, tapping her forehead with the palm of her hand.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, feeling sicker by the second.
She came to stand in front of me and proceeded to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, only this time it felt far less friendly than before. "I had hoped to proceed differently, believe me," she said, grabbing ahold of my shoulders. "But I'm on a bit of a time schedule."
With a grim smile she began forcing me backwards, much to my confusion. It wasn't until I glanced behind me I realized where she was directing me to, but by that time it was too late. We were less than a yard away from the guard rail and she showed no signs of slowing down.
"What are you doing?" I screamed, pushing against her. I became horribly confused and disoriented when I realized my pushing was having no effect. She proceeded to pick me up over her head, and that was when I really began freaking out.
"Lesson two: flight."
As I was thrown off the top of my roof, I became vaguely aware that Sif had been replaced with a man. Not just any man, but Loki.
Of course.
Author's Note: Heyyyyyyyy! I'm alive :) I know it's been forever since I updated. Life gets in the way - sorry! So, big developments. If you're a comic book reader or at least somewhat acquainted with them you might know where this is headed. If not, it's OK because this will all make sense to you soon. Silvia's character is going through a transitional phase right now... if you can't already tell she's developed a bit of an alcohol/drug dependence - Ronan won't be happy about that... or about her being pushed off of a roof. What is Loki thinking? He's insane. Honestly. But I love him. If you're confused... I promise, you won't be for long. I also promise Ronan will be making his appearance *very* soon. Some key delveopments needed to happen first before the lovely reunion - or not so lovely? :O
I'd love to hear your predicitons ;) Sorry again this update took so long. Don't hate me XD And I'm sorry for the cliffhanger. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer. A few of you have even tracked me down on Instagram demanding an update - made me laugh every time :) Love you guys.