Hey guys! Thank you ALL so much for supporting me through my last hiatus. It's difficult to get out chapters weekly, but I'll definitely work on getting them out on a steady basis from here on out. You guys are really awesome.
Angria was just as beautiful as she remembered. Rebecca rolled her suitcase behind her, her eyes wide with wonder as she gazed up to dangling crystal chandeliers. Gold, smooth floors ran beneath her feet, and the thick golden walls made her feel encompassed in luxury. Angria was Loki's home for now, he claimed, until he deemed it unfit. Apparently, rooms and aspects of Asgard were brought here to give it a homey feeling. Rebecca could only be left to wonder what the real Asgard looked like.
She felt her feet wander forward, searching for that golden bedroom she had occupied during her last stay. No, Loki was not with her. He said he had to run an errand in preparation for lessons. Therefore, Rebecca had to travel through the estate to find the room. She spent what seemed like ages wandering, looking, and simply just wanted to sit at some point in her journey down the hall. The golden room with beautifully sculpted warriors was not to be found. The hallway she was in had no doors, no exits. It was a long pathway filled of beautiful chandeliers and golden walls. No way out.
Rebecca huffed plainly, the wheels on her bag stopping as she haulted. How was she even suppose to leave if there were no doors? Within seconds, she concluded to go back to the beginning, find Loki, and demand he show her the room. However, as soon as Rebecca started off towards where she originally began, a noise resonated and echoed throughout the hallways.
Clang!
Rebecca froze momentarily, whipping her head around to see something behind her... change. On the left side of the hallway was a door- a door that wasn't there before. "Is this some sort of fun house?" Rebecca growled, staring at the new foreign object,"Because I'm not having fun."
But the door was something, and it had to lead somewhere. It was her best bet than to continue walking down the corridor.
Wheeling her luggage over to the door, Rebecca stopped. She stared at the white knob before her, wondering if the room was a room to be entered. She might be walking right into that... dungeon... again. Or perhaps she'd find that library.
Rebecca, truthfully, didn't know where she'd end up when she pushed open the door, but when she did, she didn't regret her choice. The room she entered was a bedroom, or rather, a mini-suite of sorts. Against the wall was a sky blue-colored bed, filled of the frilliest white frills and golden embellishments. A curving white nightstand stood beside the bed, and a soft white candle was flickering on top.
Across from the bed was a bathroom with a warm glow, a vanity with several trinkets and a silver-encrusted hairbrush, and... a wardrobe. Rebecca's eyes narrowed as she approached the large closet, curious. She had seen this piece before- the wardrobe. She had unveiled it and discovered a secret compartment in it. What was it doing in this room? It must've been moved.
On the opposite side of the room, there was a roaring fire and twin soft blue plush chairs. Boarding the fire was a bookshelf, filled of novels and scrolls. It seemed as if the room had been previously inhabited by another, probably a girl by the choice of color.
Did Loki host another female?
Rebecca felt a small tingle of jealously well up within her as she set her luggage beside the bed. Her eyes fell on the bookshelf and slowly, she made her way towards it. The roaring fire was comforting, for the heat was almost like a blanket in the strange room. Her eyes swept over the various novels lining the shelves, finding them to be rather... odd.
None of them were in the right language. There were symbols, markings, and other various notations that weren't English. Rebecca felt her lips form a hard line, her fingers lightly brushing a maroon book's binding. Carefully, she plucked it off the shelf and took it to the sky blue seat behind her.
Reading was something Rebecca needed. At a young age, Rebecca read all of the books imaginable. She devoured texts and appreciated every last bit of characterization, conflict, and connotation. Literature was a gateway into accessing her imagination, something better than any film or television. It was why Rebecca, in turn, became rather talented at writing at such a youthful age. She had seen so many people write different things, so she easily visualized text and self-taught herself the beauty of creation through words.
But these symbols. Rebecca marveled at the intricate swooping characters presented on the brown, thin papers. She felt as if the page would crumple under her touch, since it was so delicate and aged. The fragile paper crinkled under her soft skin, her eyes scanning the black ink in wonder.
"It is not something you can simply understand," Rebecca whispered, lightly tracing the symbols. It was as if the characters weren't meant for anyone to comprehend. A secret. It wasn't a language to be learned. So, what could it be?'
"The basis of transmutation is formulas, similar to how one would relate it to Midgardian composition of elemental structures," A smooth voice said from behind the large chair. Rebecca leaned further into the cushioned fabric of the seat, saying,"Loki."
"Yes?"
Loki, in turn, stepped forward between the two chairs. He stood there patiently, awaiting Rebecca's question. She motioned her head for him to sit in the second chair beside her, in which he did, before she chose to speak.
"How come you never told me before you know about transmutations? And, since it is so... special of an ability, how do you know about it?" Rebecca asked, curiosity filling her voice. Her eyes flickered over to Loki, desiring to know more about Loki as a teacher and where he gained his knowledge from. She watched the fire place illuminate his face, the bright light wavering shadows across his cheek.
Loki's gaze kept on the fire, his mind clearly calculating what he wished to articulate,"Truthfully, in my rage during our initial meeting, I did not see any item special of the ancient magic. It was only brought to light days hours after in which I realized what you had actually done. It's been a millennium since ancient magic has been used. The last to harness these abilities was, in fact, my teacher."
A small grin fell across his lips,"In fact, this was her very room, which is why I am thoroughly intrigued on why you chose it, or rather, it chose you..." Loki's glanced down to the book in Rebecca's hand, his lip parting. He remembered that book. He remembered that it was the very book that fell on his head... the first book he ever learned from.
Rebecca tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowing,"The room sort of just, appeared."
"The rooms in this estate are rooms I brought with me from Asgard. But, they appear if they feel as if you belong in them, or if you have a reason to be there. It prevents intruders," Loki commented. The rooms obviously always opened for Loki, for he had a right to be in every room he brought to Angria, but for this room. This specific room to open itself up to Rebecca, and for her to pick that single book, seemed all too unreal.
"I see," Rebecca spoke, pursing her lips. "So how come you are teaching me and not Thor?"
Loki shrugged,"Thor was often the brawn as I was the brains."
"But you had the same teacher- you learned the same material," Rebecca responded bluntly, shifting slightly in her seat.
"I often went to learn more from her, for the topic was intriguing. That is why I can understand the engravings on that page more than anyone alive today; although, unfortunately, I cannot understand most of it. Only the foundations. I believe that over time, you will know what everything inside that novel means. It will be instinctual."
"Ancient magic is really dying then," Rebecca whispered, shrugging into the seat,"an ability as well as a culture."
"Only if you believe it," Loki easily spoke,"You can comprehend any of these texts because it is the language of your innermost abilities. It is the language of your body and past."
Rebecca, momentarily, leaned forwards. Her eyes interlocked with the flames before her, watching them twist upwards into the chimney and crackle as they did. Her mind began to deplete all thoughts as she sat there, observing the intricate patterns the wild fire cackled. There was a silence shared between the two. Seconds and minutes passed in this moment, filled of peace. It was not awkward of discomforting the soundless air. In fact, it was calming.
"Why are you doing this?"
Loki tilted his head slightly at the soft sound of Rebecca's voice, his stare unwavering.
"A method to my madness."
"But you're helping me become stronger. You don't want another threat," Rebecca stated dryly, breaking her gaze on the fire to look at the Norse god. Her expression was devoid of emotion as she waited an answer, feeling an odd sense of comfort wash over her. How was she sitting here and having this conversation? How was the dynamic so easily shifting between the two into something... normal.
Loki laughed a smirk, shaking his head,"You must realize how long it takes for a pupil to out-rule their master."
Rebecca shrugged,"I suppose," before she glanced back down to the ancient text within her grasp.
"So, what does this mean?" Her hands raised the book upwards to face Loki, outspreading the pages as she did. Her finger was placed on a certain drawing, and next to the drawing was a ink-written star.
Loki's eyes washed over the page, allowing his mind to access the old information he was taught so long ago.
He had to remember a voice, a long lost voice that spoke the words of the ancient art. Loki's eyes fell shut momentarily, listening to her sweet tongue coax him, rambling off what the symbol meant. She was always so excited to talk about the text.
"That is the transmutation circle. It stems from the art of Alchemy. Transmutation, in that physical image as on the page, uses Alchemy to help asses what ingredients are needed to create the latter object. My teacher explained transmutations as the method in which Alchemy is performed, but the actuality of transmutation, the magic, is what is known to be ancient magic. Alchemy is more of a science, as transmutation is magic."
Rebecca swallowed the information fully, listening to Loki's velvet words articulate the answer to her question. She enjoyed his mellifluous voice gently explain to her what she desired, almost soothing her.
So there was a science to ancient magic. Rebecca then asked, "So, in this world, science and magic are the same?"
"Very much so. And truthfully," Loki continued, adjusting himself slightly,"Transmutations were not used as a method to fight- I believe that came with you alone. It was actually a way to create items that would be otherwise difficult to find. Such as herbs or metals."
Rebecca frowned slightly. She fought with transmutations because it was natural. It was something that came with her instinct to fight. She didn't know why it happened, or how, but it did. And yet Loki was trying to explain that it wasn't used to fight. Maybe that was an evil plan in this. He would try to teach her morals about fighting so she wouldn't fight.
"Is that apart of the history?" Rebecca mused, holding the book once again in her lap as she flipped through the pages.
Loki frowned,"My teacher was simply avid on instilling the ideals of non-violence. She claimed it was apart of her own studies in the art."
Rebecca couldn't help but snort,"You took the teachings well, then."
A small growl was uttered from Loki in response,"Watch your tongue."
"But really," Rebecca easily responded,"If you can teach non-violence, why don't you listen to your own preaching?"
Rebecca noticed Loki's head turn sharply away from Rebecca, staring at the wall opposite her. He looked upset at her words. Obviously Loki didn't care what he was telling her about non-violence. And Rebecca's recognition of this bothered him. Did she say something that ticked him off? Probably. Rebecca clearly had a talent for bothering Norse Gods. She did; however, want to know why he didn't listen to his own words. Newspaper writers always loved explanations. Loki always took his voice as something that he held pride in. So, what would make Loki betray his own lips? Emotions. There was love, sadness, despair, rage, hate...
"Did you hate your teacher and desperately had to rebel?" Rebecca pestered, a small smirk pulling at the edge of her lips. And normally, Rebecca didn't live with regrets. But when Loki slowly turned his head around, she did wish she never spoke those words.
"Stop it," Loki seethed, his eyes filled with more hurt than she ever thought she could see. His face was expressing his heart- Rebecca saw all the emotions Loki tried so hard to conceal on a daily basis at once. Loki's eyes were endlessly deep, swirling with despair and regret. His jaw was tight, as if he were biting down on his teeth to refrain from screaming. And maybe, in the slightest moment, his emerald hues were hazy with wetness, before Loki blinked them away.
Rebecca sucked in a deep breath, her hands tightening on the arm chair. Her brown eyes swept repeatedly over the face that was normally expressed with malice. She said something that... pained him.
For some reason, a strange sensation of guilt welled up from within her when she saw this devastating sight.
He looked lost... and not empty. Rather, he was left to be empty. Something once filled the Norse god, some sort of emotion, but even that escaped and left him a hallow shell of hatred and madness. This is what Rebecca saw.
Rebecca found herself looking at a creature of darkness... lonely, misunderstood. There was a whole story behind those eyes that she never knew. "What happened..." She found herself whispered, her own expression shifting into one of pity and sadness.
Loki's eyes narrowed bitterly, scoffing without answering. He glimmered with anger, and Rebecca was curious as to why he didn't act on it as he had so many times in the past. If this were a month ago, Loki would've assaulted her for such a comment. But now? He sat there in his anger, without any sort of physical reaction besides shifting in his seat.
"It is none of your conce-"
"It is," Rebecca interrupted, frowning. She shook her head of brown curled locks, continuing,"You never say anything you are thinking. And when you do, it is often in the form of anger. I doubt you're always angry, but that your anger comes from another feeling that you always mask. You hide behind a mask that you forget who you were before you put it on*."
Loki was silent. He sat in his chair, clearly more uncomfortable than he was before. Why was she speaking to him like this? Why was she talking to him like he was some pathetic fool without knowledge of his own problems? But then again, how did Rebecca know that Loki was endlessly haunted by his past? How could she analyze him just like that?
Of course, Rebecca knew her effort was probably in vain. Loki wouldn't tell her crap. However, the Norse God always had a way of surprising her.
"My teacher was someone I held... romantic... connection with," Loki announced softly, his words careful and hesitant,"Therefore I took interest in her ideals, despite what I previously believed in terms of revenge."
Rebecca found herself staring at the lonely god. Her eyes were wide, the flames flickering off her face as she watched him. He was telling her what she asked. He was revealing a layer of his thick skin. Rebecca saw the onion begin to peal.
There was a moment of silence for the fire to cackle, sparking upwards into the chimney. Rebecca paused, thinking of how to respond. She didn't really know how to. It was such an out-of-character situation for Loki to posses. He actually liked someone. He had a heart beneath the layers of armor. He was capable of feeling something other than anger and rage. He could feel...
"Were you in love?"
Loki sharply inhaled a breath. His hands clenched tightly, his nails biting into his palms at the thought. The feeling of... love. That endless fluttering his heart once felt, but paradoxically the sorrow that followed too soon afterwards.
The man glanced to Rebecca, her own gaze fixated on his. Loki's lips parted to answer, but quickly shut. How to say this?
"I believe all those years ago, I very much had a heart that could love another."
Rebecca pursed her lips, her eyes telling and wide,"And now?"
Loki frown deeply, once more staring into the fire. Rebecca took note on how he couldn't look at her. He couldn't... speak to someone directly about emotions that overran his conscious. Rebecca could only find her expression mirroring Loki's. He simply shook his head,"Time has aged me in ways that has left me bitter. My heart then was jovial and naive, and now all that is left is a carcass without blood."
"You know that isn't true," Rebecca responded without hesitation, shutting the book in her lap. Her fingers gripped the cover tightly, feeling the worn edges under her touch.
Loki snorted,"And you are one to claim truth over my decrepit organ?"
Rebecca shook her head,"I don't think I can, but I know a thing or two." A small smile graced her lips as she stood upwards. She moved towards the bookshelf and placed the book in its spot, speaking as she did,"My job involves a lot of reading."
"Yes."
Turning around, Rebecca clasped her hands in front of her and spoke,"And from all of the stories I've reviewed, from all of the tales that made my hard work-exterior crack, even just a bit, I know that any creature is capable of love at any point in their lives."
Loki found his brows furrowing, watching the strange human girl. What nonsense was she rambling off now? She was trying to reason why the God of Mischief should have a heart. It was a disgusting idea.
"Your muses are idiotic," Loki murmured, resting his head on his hand.
Rebecca pouted slightly, a huff escaping her lips. She moved back over to seat and grabbed it by the arm rests, dragging it closer to Loki's seat. She saw him pull back from her when she sat down, his eyes examining the proximity between them. It was... smaller. She was now right beside him.
"We can't have a heart to heart if I'm across the room," Rebecca grinned, taking her seat.
Loki's nose scrunched,"This is not a heart to-"
"Ah ah!" Rebecca raised a finger, which surprisingly silenced Loki. His eyes widened at the act. Did she just... shush him? And did he comply? Loki watched Rebecca drop her hand into her lap, before he shut his mouth tightly.
"What I was saying," Rebecca smirked,"was that my job involves me reading tales of miracles and joy. I need to get out stories that the public needs to read, and not exactly what I want. I have to be... colder and harsher to have the backbone to toss stories like 'cancer survival' or 'found orphan'. But nevertheless, a common theme in every story is how love somehow is a factor. Even in the most bitter of forms. I hate not giving humanity something like that."
Loki was silent, his eyes on the fire.
"Like, the story for meant you, was one that I had a hard time throwing away," Rebecca said softly.
Loki's head perked upwards, facing the Editor,"Excuse me?"
Rebecca had several stories written about the NYC war zone. She had articles written on the Avengers, the Tesseract, the assessment of damage. One of the stories she got was,'Who was Loki?'
There were several things that was wrong with passing that article. First off, the people wanted to know about the heroes. They wanted to know about those who saved their asses so they could give thanks. They didn't want to sympathize with the bad guy; humans need a scapegoat. Therefore, Rebecca read the article on the bad guy, Loki, and couldn't publish. She'd rather put in room for damage control and where shelters would be set up, rather than gaining support for the enemy. She had to feed the public.
But the article itself? It made Rebecca question her beliefs. Why did the bad guy attack? Did Earth do something to make itself a target? Had we harmed Loki? What was Loki's motives? Was he pressured to do it? Why was he so malicious? What did he gain from killing so many people?
Even if the article didn't change Rebecca's initial hate for the Asgardian, she could not help but... wonder. Why did he do it?
Rebecca nodded her head,"Yeah. Honestly, I didn't give two shits about the bad guy. But the story- your story... It gave a different perspective. It made me think about you as a character... And the logical conclusion in our nature is that I'm sure love had something to do it with it."
Loki tensed in his seat. His fingers once more clenched,"You think my revenge dealt with love?"
Rebecca gave a weak smile,"The story normally goes along the line of someone you love must've hurt you, so the next thing would be to... seek revenge."
Like most killers or mad-men, something happened in their past that caused such a traumatic change in their psyche. Perhaps that was Loki's path of doing things. Maybe this was what it was. Something happened to him that was so devastating that he had to use rage to fight. After all, sitting with him now, he was no blood thirsty killer, but something had to have triggered it.
But the tension in the room shifted at this point. Rebecca noticed that Loki had shifted dramatically. He was hunched over in his seat, his hands running through her raven locks continuously. His breathing was slightly deeper from the inflection of his shoulder-blades. She could almost hear him gasp for air as his head hung down.
Rebecca's brows instantly narrowed at the sight,"Loki?"
No response.
"Loki, are you alright?"
She heard him breathe.
Rebecca reached her hand forward, hesitant in her motions. But, nonetheless, she spoke,"Loki," as her fingers gently touched Loki's shoulder.
Instantly, at the contact of her warm skin to his cold armor, Loki reacted. His body jumped backwards, as if she were burning him with her mindless caress. Loki's eyes were bug eyed, the emerald hues filled with confusion and shock. The perplex expression that raced across his face was only aided by his body shooting upwards from the seat. His gaze was locked on Rebecca's hand, still hovering in the air from where it touched him.
Rebecca tilted her head slightly, finding her own breathing erratic from the sudden motion of Loki. What was wrong with him? They were having a normal conversation they were... having a heart to heart and yet here he was, staring at her like she was a stranger. Like, he didn't know what had just happened.
Did something significant occur by the single touch of the shoulder?
Obviously, it had to have meant something, because seconds after, Loki dashed out of the bedroom as quickly as he possibly could.
"God damn that wretched girl!"
Loki barged out of the room as swiftly as he could move. He couldn't be in there anymore. He couldn't sit there and watch her moonlight skin soak up the flame's glow, or her eyes as a giant pool of water, reflecting the light from the fire. He couldn't even manage the fact that she was so near to him, practically adding more heat than the fireplace itself to the room. Loki was uncomfortably warm around her.
He found himself tugging at the neck-lining of his collar, as if it would loosen the armor plates. Of course, his effort was in vain. His feet still moved quickly down the golden hallway.
Loki stormed far away from the room as possible. The room always made him feel things he shouldn't. It was the first time he truly felt his emotions towards Ceila form and the first time that he... could actually see Rebecca as someone who could actually... mean something to him.
The way she spoke was soothing, like trickling water in a light stream. That light touch of her hand sent fire racing through him faster than any feeling of rage. She was telling him things about love and the past that made Loki feel as if he were staring right into a mirror. A reflection.
And the worst part of it, is that Loki knew she was more than right. Loki knew everything she said was truth. The truth shook him to his bare bones, making the entire world spin faster on its axis. How did she read him so well, when so many others failed to see that he was hurt?
Loki spent his entire life in a shadow, crying out for pain when all he was told was to shut up. His words were his strength, and he hid his emotions to use his words effectively without showing what he truly felt. It was that mask he wore every day of his life to protect himself.
But Rebecca read it. She read his stoic face as if it was clearly written as a news article. She spoke it fearlessly, analyzing him like another character in one of her blasted Midgardian novels! Rebecca understood him as a tragic villain soaked in blood, misery, and pain. She didn't even run away. She sat there and tried to evict love from his graveyard of useless emotions.
Loki huffed angrily, feeling his hands in tight fists. He could punch a wall right now. He could destroy all of Manhattan again with the rage that was welling up within him. He was angry because he never had someone... break his guard unwillingly. But this wasn't even anger... It was frustration. Rebecca was getting to him.
Ceila was the only person he let his guard down to. He gave into her and wanted her to see him for all he was. But Rebecca? No, Loki didn't want her to even know him well when this all started. His original plan was to kill her! And now, she was literally scrapping off layers of his flesh and exposing him for who he was. She was getting under his skin and implanting her kind words... now repeating in Loki's troubled mind.
It was frustrating, because Loki didn't want that for himself. He didn't need saving. He enjoyed sulking in his own darkness. He was alone because no one deserved to understand him. No one was worthy of such pain, besides they probably could not even comprehend such complexity that is Loki. His emotions were a web of lies, trust-issues, and solitude. They weren't meant to be understood by some Midgardian who he initially despised.
And yet she sat there and bantered off everything as if she were reading a children's book. Someone who loved and lost, someone misunderstood and angry. And because of that his heart raced, as if someone were banging a drum and springing his once hate-filled heart to new beat.
But what was most aggravating was how she thought that he could love again. Rebecca was convinced that after all these years of suffering that somehow, Loki would open up his heart to another. Did she even know what she was talking about, or who she was talking to? How could he even subject himself to so much pain? Loki could never love again simply because love always kills. Love is pain. Love is sheer agony. Every time Loki thought of his deceased he thought about all that never was and could never be.
Loki could never have a family with Ceila, or wake up to her sleeping form every morning.
Loki could never take her on a date.
Loki could never kiss her cheek and watch her face light up in that warm glow.
He could never.
It killed him more than breathing, because before Ceila came around, life was horrible. He was mistreated by his father and Thor. He was looked down upon, despite what others believed. His voice was silenced and Ceila gave him his voice back, even if it was for a moment. And when she was gone, the pain became worse. It was as if a nail was shoved into his stomach and since then, was being twisted deeper inside him and shredding the surrounding skin more and more and more...
Of course he was a carcass now. An empty shell. Lifeless. After 2000 years he would be. Nothing could change his damned fate. He was doomed to live a life without love, or paradoxically, he was thankful for it. Loki didn't need love. He had loved so long without it that perhaps his body couldn't accept love, nor could it process the stupid emotion.
And yet somehow, Rebecca's words began to unwind him. It began to animate the limbs and push red blood through his corroded veins. Rebecca believed that someone could want him. Rebecca believed that somewhere in him, that rusted nail that once caused him so much pain, could be removed. That Loki could... feel. Because now, he was feeling more than he had in ages.
A different kind of feeling- one that was not fueled by endless rage and vengeance. It was a emotion that was creeping up his spin, making the hallway he so determinedly moved about hotter... His heart was still racing. The idea of Rebecca's genuine kindness... she saw him for not being a monster despite the horrendous acts that occurred.
Did that mean that someone actually... understood him? She was not only giving him a chance of redemption, but giving him hope that perhaps one day, Loki could truly find happiness.
Loki only wanted to live life without the constant pain that wracked his brain. And Rebecca's voice soothed that pain. Her dark eyes were entrancing, her personality determined and admirable. And none of that was for herself. It was for him. Rebecca was trying to... be there for him, to help suppress the feelings of solitude and despair. Rebecca believed that there was something more to him regardless of what he had done.
Rebecca was giving him hope, and that single emotion made all the difference.
"You should not simply extend your blade," Loki instructed, whipping his scepter outwards and smacking Rebecca's ribcage. The girl let out a holler as her body smashed against the cold, unforgiving ground. Her transmuted sword clattered a few feet away out of her grip. Rebecca huffed, feeling the pain ripple through her side. She shot a glare at Loki, in which he simply replied,"The offense is no good unless you can switch at a moments notice to the defensive."
Neither were wearing any real armor. Simple pants and a white tee hung loosely off Rebecca's body, as Loki chose his regular attire of black leather and golden plates.
Both had believed that real danger would not occur, and both promised that they would not get angry to, in turn, turn an innocent training session into a full out brawl. Rebecca didn't want to actually spill blood, but she knew bruises were completely alright in Loki's mind. She might as well look like she had taken a beating from him.
This was not the first, or second, or third time Loki had managed to bring her down. Rebecca was consistently falling, feeling helpless to defend herself. It was rather annoying, and she felt weak. Every tactic she did just... didn't work. If she jabbed, twisted her body, lunged, Loki would still find a place to knock her to the floor as easily as a domino.
"Then what am I doing wrong!" Rebecca growled, frustration evident in her tone as she pushed herself upwards off the ground to sit.
Loki pursed his lips,"Often times, when facing an enemy, your knowledge on their physical ability will be slim to none. However, instead of attempting fatal blows, as you have been failing at, you should be looking for a weak point."
Rebecca slowly stood up, moving over to her blade and picking it up. She listened to Loki speak,"Be offensive, defensive, and observant. A good fighter never lets her guard down, and simultaneously, is also looking for that spot of fault."
Loki held his golden scepter tightly, his eyes falling on the blue orb. Power. The scepter was filled of immaculate power and yet he was using it to train. His emerald hues then flickering to Rebecca, standing to face him. She was ready to continue. But it was all wrong. She was fighting... wrong.
"I can try to do that," Rebecca remarked, shutting her eyes and taking a moment to rub the back of her neck, exposed by her pony tail.
"Again."
And the two went at it. Rebecca attempted to be slightly more defense by blocking an attack by Loki on her left. She felt her blade wobble slightly in her hand, but it was due to the extreme amount of pressure from Loki. He wasn't going to be easy on her, because she needed to acclimate to someone drastically stronger.
Rebecca winced, pushing backwards. So that was defensive. Her eyes followed his body, curious as to where she could find a weak spot on a god.
Did god's even have weak spots? Look at Thor. He could power through whatever and none were skilled enough to find a weak spot. Was Loki training her to be a witty, intelligent fighter? Or one of strength. Because Thor was obviously one for brutality and seemed to never lose.
Another jab with the blade, another defensive clash with Loki's scepter to block it. "Better," he commented, but his eyes were not on her. They were on her sword.
Rebecca frowned, feeling the moment's distraction catching her off guard when she blocked his neck offensive attack by her waist. A small grunt escaped her mouth and she once again, felt the pressure of his weapon on hers. Her hand suddenly began to hurt. Her arm hurt. Everything in her body hurt... Rebecca winced, her teeth gritting when she suddenly lost control of what little grip she had on the sword. The metal saer clamored to the ground as she stepped backwards. The pressure immediately was lifted. But Rebecca was clutching her wrist.
It hurt.
She felt a shooting pain all through her arm, and Rebecca hissed,"Damn it!"
What had happened? She had lasted longer than she normally did when she let her mind think of attacking Loki slightly different... but that pain.
"Loki, I don't know what happened but-"
But before she knew it, she felt a dark shadow cast behind her. Rebecca gasped, feeling Loki's chest suddenly press up against her spine, causing her to freeze. What was he doing? Why did she think she was hearing his heart beat? Were they that... close. She felt his hand slide down her bare arm to the sword. His fingers almost danced on her milky skin, tracing a path down to her hand. The pain that had slashed her arm's motions were soothed, as if the suffering had never been there in the first place.
"You are gripping it incorrectly," Loki whispered into her ear, his breath ticking the exposed skin on her neck. Slowly, his other arm wrapped around her and slid her blade's grip into her hand.
Rebecca didn't respond. She was focusing on breathing.
His hand slowly clasped around her fingers, positioning them with the gentlest of pressures. It was as if time ceased to exist in this moments. Rebecca felt completely seized, even lost. She hadn't felt like that in the past 25 minutes of training. The paralysis simply came on when... he touched her like this. As he was touching her now, Rebecca wasn't sure what her mind was doing. She couldn't think.
All she could imagine was what it looked like to have Loki's arms wrapped around her, gently guiding her through his motions.
"I was?" Rebecca huskily whispered, when she managed to find her voice.
"Mm," Loki simply murmured, against her. Rebecca felt heat shoot up her body, the warmth almost overwhelming. Why was he so close to her? Why was he touching her? Where did this come from?
She almost could've sworn she was leaning into his unintentional embrace. Sparks began to shoot through her chest, making the world seem that much more electric and vivid. It was unreal. It was... sensational. Rebecca swallowed, but even her mouth was running dry. Therefore, her lips parted as her only choice, but it almost seemed as if she were sighing against him.
Her eyes wanted to fall shut, her head wanted to lean backwards into the crook of his neck. She wanted to relish in this moment because it felt... pleasurable. It felt safe and warm; it felt beautiful. Rebecca wanted to relish in it, because she was almost melting in his arms.
Why? Why was her body doing this to her? She should be training and focusing on what he was actually trying to teach her! But her mind was giving in too. Rebecca's entire being wasn't functioning right. Her heart pounded, her breath light. It was so warm and then... it was not.
Rebecca wasn't sure what was happening the moment Loki stepped away from her body. It was like a haze, an undeniable haze that swept over her the moment they made contact.
"Rebecca?"
Rebecca gazed down to the sword. So that was how you held it?
"Rebecca?"
"What!" Rebecca unintentionally shouted, snapping out of her haze as she shot her head up to stare at Loki. "Sorry," she breathed lightly,"The... the fatigue must be getting to me."
Loki watched her for a few long moments. His gaze swept over her disheveled face, calculating and thinking. It wasn't long before Loki simply sighed, and directed,"Then it is time for supper."
* Paraphrased from V for Vendetta
Hey guys! How have you all been doing? I hope you enjoyed the update. I'm really happy to have FINALLY posted, although I should have more time over Thanksgiving to do some more work on it. I haven't given up!
All of your reviews and messages literally propel me to keep writing. You're all so inspirational. Please review, favorite, and follow!
