Hello everyone! I recently got SO much inspiration to write this next chapter. It's full of angst, sadness, and pain. I give you happiness to take it away. But, big things are happening in the next chappie, so stay tuned!

Enjoy :)


Rebecca and Loki had finished their meals after a long, quirky chat about the intricacies of the universe. Rebecca was intrigued by the folklore and talks that Loki had remembered since he was a babe. They were of dark elves and mystical mermaids... all things Rebecca thought were myths. But then again, Loki was a myth in himself.

A Norse god. She was with a Norse god.

The two stood at the door of the dining room, awkwardly positioned next to one another. "I suppose I will meet you in the gallery to train then?" Loki questioned, his eyes full of endless pools of green.

Rebecca nodded her head,"Yeah, I'll meet you there."

Her body instantly froze as she felt Loki's soft hand trace the rim of her jaw. Her brows furrowed, confused by the sudden action but rallied not against it. She let him touch her as if she were silk beneath his finger's graze. Her breath nearly disappeared completely as his lips gently brushed her forehead, kissing her as if she were a flower of the rarest kind. The hair on her skin rose, a shiver ran down the length of her spine and caused her to suck in a tight breath. His lips ran over to her temple, pressing against once more her before the warm faded.

"Alright," he spoke, before he took a step back. He studied her face a second longer, as if admiring the sight before him. The smallest of smiles graced his perfect lips as he then disappeared down the hall.

Rebecca could feel her cheek rise in a heat, a blush crawling to her face and tickling her cold heart. This wasn't normal for her. She didn't… feel. It wasn't in her nature.

She had this childish, beautiful sense of wonder surrounding her. Things didn't make sense or add up. Rebecca Lawrence, having actual feelings for someone else that just happens to be a mythical being. What she felt for Loki was unlike anything else. His eyes told so many tales of being broken and torn, and now full of a jovial sense of renewal.

The brunette laughed to herself, shaking off the sparks running through her veins as she began to move the opposite direction. She wanted to go to her bedroom, relax for a bit, and then move to training. Today was with daggers, also known as Loki's specialty. He wanted her to make daggers out of wood through transmutation, and then use them as weapons. It would test her ability to create sufficient weapons. Loki was actually rather good at this whole training ordeal.

Rebecca continued down the hall, finding herself alone. Loki seemed to disappear in the other direction and Rebecca felt slightly chilled by the emptiness of the golden hall.

CLANG.

Rebecca whirled her head around. She remembered this feeling before. The doors that opened… the doors that open because they need you to go there. She saw a light streaming from a door that wasn't there before. Her eyes narrowed, her body instantly turning towards the shift in the space. Her feet moved like a magnet towards the light. Slowly, she stepped inside and noticed where she was.

The library.

Rebecca found herself moving through the long lines of books. The isles were endless, dusty, and ancient. The columns were tall, reaching endless heights and then disappearing into the fog above. Why was she led her? Her eyes scanned the books, the titles she couldn't read. She was fascinated, nonetheless.

Cobwebs danced along the shelves, twisting and spiraling along the bindings. The dust seemed to float through the air, shimmering in the faint rays of sunlight that shined through some unknown source.

The girl continued to walk down the isle, her fingers gently brushing the tip of a few of the books as she moved with fascination. As the pad of her forefinger slid across the dusty book, she left a mark of cleanness. It was as if the books were used when really, they were lifeless and unloved.

The ancient novels seemed to go on continuously, but, in the break between the isles, Rebecca felt a small wind. Puzzled, she found herself turning around to face an open door. It was flung open, as if held by some wind that burst out of the room. Walking towards it, Rebecca noticed she had been here before. The large oak door… The study.

Rebecca remembered on one of her first days here, she wandered into this room. But this time… It was different. Something was added to the room. When she first entered, there were papers everywhere, dust in the air, and complete disarray. She almost faintly remembered a large piece of fabric covering something in the very center of the room, above the large wooden desk. Now, that fabric wasn't there.

A portrait was in its place.

Her heart sunk deep into her chest. She felt it pound low, deep. Her entire body froze and an eerie shiver trickled across her back. Her neck swelled, her eyes widened. The blood in her veins refused to flow and all because of one thing. The portrait.

The portrait… of her.

Rebecca saw a ghost of her very self staring back at her with piercing crystal eyes. The woman was wearing a long, creme dress that draped around her every curve with silks and jewels. Her hair was full of thick curls trickling down her back and her face was so calm, so pure… On the bottom of the portrait, there was a gold plaque that wrote:

My Lovely Celia

"Celia," Rebecca whispered, her entire body shivering. Her mind was numb. How was this picture… ever a thing? How did Celia look exactly like her? How was it even possible? Did Rebecca have a long lost twin and if so, why did Loki have her portrait?Has he known that… she looked exactly like someone he once knew?

Tears jerked uncontrollably at Rebecca's eyes.

It was all a lie then. Everything. She was a living ghost. And that is who Loki had feelings for. Celia, the phantom. Not her. It was never her.

Rebecca swallowed thickly, running her pointer finger under her eye to discard the worthless tears she was now shedding. Her body shuddered, and everything within her began to burn. She had to get out of her. She had to leave.

She never ran so fast.


Loki mused around the gallery for quite some time. He had an entire table full of elegant daggers, each crafted to perfection and done in beautiful detail. Some of them were glazed with gold, and others, sharpened to cut a piece of paper if it were to fall on it. These weapons were deadly, powerful, and if used in the correct way, would surely provide a fatal blow.

He also had several targets set up to practice the aim and throw of the daggers. In the far corner, he had a bunch of materials, ranging from rock to wood to metal, all waiting to be transmutated into usually weaponry. He was more than prepared to teach Rebecca the skill he knew best.

It was exciting, to say the least, that he'd train Rebecca in his area of expertise. Every person on Asgard knew he was a pure genius with a dagger and was lethal. When he fought alongside Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three, he always was a formidable opponent simply due to his skill.

Yet now, he'd get to teach his craft to Rebecca and show her the ways of his world. He wanted to help her throw, to feel the length of her arm under his touch and to distract her, to teach her, to do everything with her and it was impossibly ridiculous. Loki was becoming obsessive with the fact that he could call her his own. He was entranced with her soft, brown eyes. He needed to feel the smoothness of her skin and the light in her face. He didn't know what he could do without the gentle press of his lips against hers. His entire thought was engulfed in the image of Rebecca, and his cold heart heated at the thought.

And for some reason, she was 25 minutes late.

Loki's brows furrowed. It was unlike her to miss a session, let alone come late. It was against Rebecca's character of perfect. Maybe something happened to her? But there was nothing in the palace beside the two. Loki would've sensed a breach or an outside presence. He was sure it was just the two of them in the area. So, where was she?

Within seconds, Loki found himself leaving the gallery in search of the girl. Room after room, she was not there. And each time Loki did not find her, he grew more and more frustrated. Anger began to replace worry rather quickly in the Norse god.

Finally, Loki made it to Rebecca's own quarters, and figured if anywhere, she'd be here. He heard rustling inside, and when he opened the door, he found an extremely odd sight. Rebecca was… packing.

"Do you think you're taking a leave?" Loki pipped, standing in the doorway with quite the confused look on his face.

She didn't answer. She didn't make eye contact.

"Rebecca," Loki spoke, but it almost seemed like a warning.

No answer. Rebecca moved to the wardrobe and pulled out more belongings, hastily stuffing them into the small bags she came with.

Loki's pursed his lips, taking a step into the room. It took his eyes to adjust to Rebecca's face to notice her nose was red, as were her eyes. Was she crying?

"Did something bring harm to you?"

Rebecca still, refused to give him the time of day and she began to zip her second bag. It appeared that she had been putting her stuff together for the time she had missed during their session. Her body shook slightly, and he could hear her heart beat was racing. Something was terribly wrong with her to act so sporadic and out of control.

"REBECCA," Loki implored, a flash of anger shooting through his body. He took a forward step towards her and grabbed her arm, stopping her of all her motions.

Rebecca's eyes widened. She felt as if she wanted to vomit from the roughness of the hold and that along brought tears to her eyes. Why would he ever touch her like that especially after everything? Why was he so cruel?

"How dare you!" Rebecca shouted, pulling her hand back as hard as she could. Loki didn't let go. He held tightly, not realizing what he was doing. Rebecca was already in an extremely emotional state, thinking about everything they had ever been through and more. The memories of their first interactions were vivid and clear, and she felt bile rise up in her throat at his touch.

His grip was also one of extreme force, and that night from so long ago flooded her memory. She had chained it up. She told herself he changed and that he wasn't that man anymore but he held onto her wrist so tightly as if to restrain her.

Tears flooded her eyes, spilling out without hesitation and streamed onto her cheeks. She struggled against Loki, and it was only then that he realized what poison he touch was. Loki let his grasp go, his anger dissipating as he saw how fragile she was in the moment.

She appeared to have been crying before, but now, she backed up from him as if he were truly some monster. Loki inhaled deeply, shaking his head,"I'm sorry for my inappropriate action."

Rebecca's wrist was clutched to her chest. She'd only felt this weak once before in her life. Also… with Loki.

Loki; however, was completely lost as to why suddenly, Rebecca was acting up in such a feverish way. "Have I wronged you?" He asked softly, all signs of aggression gone. His gaze rested on the sniffling girl, clearly trying, and failing, to restrain her tears.

"Rebecca," he spoke in the most calm, sweet voice.

And yet, his eyes widened in disbelief when Rebecca hiccuped quietly,"Celia… Who is Celia?"

Loki felt his body lurch forward. His hands, with the gentlest touch, reached out and grasped Rebecca's shoulders. She shuddered away from him, but simply shivered under his hands. His thumbs ran circles along her shoulders in an attempt to sooth her, his voice small as he whispered, "How do you know who Celia is?"

Rebecca's bleak expression gazed at Loki with such gloom. Her tears slowly came became silent, dripping in streams down her face and dribbling off her chin.

Her eyes were glazed, unmoving, and full of distrust. However, Loki instantly felt his grasp on her tighten ever so slightly, simply to display the intensity of his question.

"Rebecca, please," he begged,"I wish to calm the war in your mind but you must assist me with your words. How do you know who Celia is."

Loki searched Rebecca's face for any sort of answer, his own pleading for a response. His hand raised to cup her face gingerly, his thumb sweeping away the fallen drops of water. At his touch, Rebecca deflected him by turning her face away, despite her whole being begging her to give into such a gentle hold. Her eyes fell shut, as if she was attempting to come up with the best way to say the jumble of words storming through her mind.

With a pained stare, Rebecca tonelessly voiced,"The portrait in the library. I saw it."

Loki's face tightened at her words, his emerald hues growing hard and cold. She knew. She knew who Celia was. Or rather, she knew about their striking resemblance. Loki's hold on Rebecca fell, his hands collapsing to his sides and hitting his armor.

"Who was she, Loki," Rebecca thickly questioned, her teeth clenched behind her tight lips.

Could he tell her? Could Loki tell Rebecca who Celia was? Was it even right? Loki spun around, as if too ashamed to look Rebecca in the eyes.

"She was my tutor in Alchemy."

Rebecca knew that was it. Back in the room she found not too long ago… the room that belonged to Loki's teacher when she found the book on alchemy. She remembered…

"Is that apart of the history?" Rebecca mused, holding the book once again in her lap.

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."

. "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."

"You were in love with her," Rebecca concluded, the hole in her chest deepening,"And you only like me because… because I look like her."

Rebecca felt so discarded, so used. She let out a long breath, trying to re-swallow her stomach. The empty pit in her sunk so deep, the lifelessness spreading out through her body life a broken rage doll.

Loki's own expression was lifeless as he turned back to face her. It was as if his lips parted to speak, but found no words. The God of Lies was out of anything to say in response to the girl. Loki was agonized.

"Rebecca…" Loki pleaded,"Her appearance has no correlation to the-"

"Bullshit!" Rebecca spat, her wet eyes narrowing in disbelief as anger shot through her like lightening. "God, you can't even admit it. You can't admit that I'm right and you've been using me in some sick game of role-play of your dead lover."

Loki sucked in a breath, his eyes pained,"You cannot believe that what little feelings I have are honest for you? Celia has been dead for ages and never once had I had the chance to care for her as I do you. Is that so impossible to believe? "

"Yes."

Rebecca felt a new flood of tears stream down her redden cheeks, a pitiful laugh escaping her throat as she snapped,"You've made me look like such a fool. Several times you've humiliated me, berated me, knocked me down to points where I don't know if I can get up and I… I forgave you and gave you what I've never given anyone else. I gave you my trust, my body, my…I-I don't even know. Loki, I don't know what to tell you."

Blindly, Rebecca wept in front of him. Her entire body shook with anger, vulnerability, devastation. She found her teeth gritting as she sneered,"I accepted you."

Loki's fists were balled. His inner mind was swirling with any way to answer Rebecca. He wanted to hold her, to calm her shakes and breath happiness into her saddened face. But he couldn't. He didn't know how to protect her from the truth of his past. And each word bit into his frozen shell one after another. Each snag was like a dagger to his cold heart, and he held it in. He always held his emotions together, or at least tried to.

And then, Loki straightened up. His eyes grew colder, his expression less pained. It was as if he was sealing off his feelings as he stared back at Rebecca in her disheveled state. He showed barely any heart as he took a step towards her.

"I've been truthful with my emotions of you, Rebecca. I have nothing to prove my words, but they are honest. Celia is a past, and I'm unaware of why you have the same resemblance but I assure you did not fall in love with a ghost," Loki spoke, rather as a matter of faculty,"And if you still believe I am falsely projecting this act of compassion or romance for some pathetic sexual gain, then you are more heartless than I can bare."

And almost immediately, Loki regret what he said.

Rebecca shook her head in disbelief,"Heartless. I'm heartless!" Her hands flew up as she sneered,"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm as cold as everyone tells me. Maybe you just made me more of the bitch I already am. Thank you for that lovely addition to my heartless personality."

Loki stoically responded,"Rebecca, you're wrong."

"So that's it then," Rebecca huffed, crossing her arms in defiance as she angrily swept away the last of her tears,"You're going to destroy me, make me believe in some fake shit-hole of a relationship because of some weird sexual fantasy of your dead girlfriend, and then do nothing but tell me that what I'm feeling is wrong. You give me happiness and take it away instantly like it's some child's play."

It was a hard thing to answer, but it wasn't true. Loki knew like hell it wasn't true but he didn't know what to say. He just wanted to tell Rebecca how stupid she was reacting and how much she meant to him… that she gave him so much life and meaning when he was in his darkest moments and yet, all Loki could mutter was,"I cannot fix your emotional trauma."

Loki wanted to end this. He wanted to kiss Rebecca endlessly. He wanted to save her and explain how much joy she brought him. She saved him, healed him, and gave him his life when he was nothing but cruel. She had always been so kind. Yet Loki couldn't seem to find it in himself to return it. He couldn't.

"You're impossible! You're sickening and impossible," Rebecca laughed lowly, her jaw tightening. She felt so defeated as she sniffled, "And you won't even fight for it. For us. You won't fight for us and because of your pride you hide it all, Loki. I want to fight for us but you won't, and you never will. Control is more important to you. You need that control like a poison more than you'd protect me from all of this endless pain."

Her breath was heavy, almost like a pant as she poured out her sadness into a few words. "Say something, Loki."

And Loki, replied with silence. She felt a final tear escape down her face.

It didn't take long for Rebecca to pull her two luggage backs upright. She gave Loki a long, hard look that was full of such disappointment. Her eyes bore so much grief, so much lost hope. Everything she ever felt was poured into the overwhelming despair that clearly read through her eyes. She was empty. She had nothing left and it seemed as if Loki didn't care. He didn't care one bit.

Defeated, Rebecca dully spoke,"Even if it was for a day, I thought I really did love you. You're really a master of trickery… But I swear, I'll die before you see me cry again. I'll die before you shatter me into nothing."

Rebecca, within seconds, disappeared from the room.


Yayy for chapter updates! Please review for me :D