Author's note: Yeah, this is a really long chapter. Who doesn't like long chapters? Sorry for the lack of updates; can't promise when I'll do it again! Review please! And thanks to those who followed and Favorited!

Warnings: Over usage of the word fuck, but meh, nothing else.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for Neena and other random OCs. Anastasia belongs to the SUPER AWESOME Muchado96!


"Well, well, well," came Loki's voice, closing in on their cell. "If it isn't my troublesome lady. Dungeons, chains, and shackles. Darling, you really mustn't take our affairs so seriously," he mused, a huge grin across his face.

Loki's voice was the first thing she heard when she woke up, her face smushed into Ana's hair. "Blechk!" she spat, trying to get the thick strands of hair off her face. "What the hell? What time is it?" she asked groggily before her eyes focused on him. "Oh, it's just you."

"It's morning," Ana groaned, stretching out across the floor like starfish. "No one needs to hear such talk first thing in the morning," she mumbled before sitting up.

"What was he talking about? Chains and shackles?"

"You're too young," Ana yawned, placing a stretched hand on her face.

"Get your hand off of me!" she mumbled into the hand before smacking it off of her.

"Now, we can all get along, can we not?" Loki chimed, clearly amused with himself. "Whenever you are ready, Darling," he bowed ever so slightly to Ana.

"Oh, fuck off," Neena grumbled, then paused. "Wait? She get's to go and I don't?"

"No, no," Ana grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes. "Neena's coming with us." Loki was about to speak in response, but she cut him off, "Mind out of the gutter," she reprimanded.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, "You are no fun, Darling." He then proceeded to speak with the guards about releasing them, but they kept shaking their heads in refusal.

"I really don't want to have to deal with this myself," Ana raised her voice so they could all hear. Somehow that was enough to convince the guards to let down the force field so they could get out. "You were too slow," she rolled her eyes at him.

Neena glanced down at the floor, raising an eyebrow and glancing nervously. "Um," she flushed. "The flooring is really high," she stressed, hoping someone would get the hint. "Just how tall are most Asgardians?"

"That is not the attitude I want to hear from my student," Loki responded, offering his arm to Ana to help her down.

She sat down on the ledge, scooting herself off the ledge. It was a little embarrassing , but she just looked down at the ground, fiddling with the ring yet again. "So, you're teaching me?"

"In a way," he shrugged. "You must learn to fend for yourself in the process," he began to lead Ana out of the dungeons, whispering things to her that made her laugh.

She blushed again, biting her lower lip to keep from saying something that would probably sound stupid.

"Do you ride?" Ana turned around and questioned her as they climbed the stairs out of the underground dungeon to the outside world.

"No," she shook her head.

The same scepter from earlier appeared in her hand and she hit a tip to the ground, vibrating the earth. "You're going to ride with me then," she grinned deviously.

"Oh no, what's with that look?" she asked, not liking as Ana's smile grew wider.

"He's quite the surprise," Loki added as a guard brought his chestnut stallion to him.

Then there was the thundering of hooves as some seemingly gigantic horse came towards them from the distance and a large black stallion appeared, galloping right at them. "His name is Benz. One of the many Stallions of Doom that fallen warriors ride to Valhalla," she smiled as the horse grew closer. He was one of the biggest horses she had ever seen, his black coat shining in the light and his black mane and tail flowing through the wind, smoke seemingly coming from him. He slowed down as he approached, trotting into Ana's arm who proceeded to hug him and saddle him with magic before hopping on. "No time for greetings. Hop on," she extended a hand to Neena.

She took the hand, more impressed by the stallion than afraid of it. She loved horses; always had. "Why is he called Benz?" she asked, sitting behind Ana.

"It means blessed," she answered as they began to trot towards the palace, Loki riding slightly lower beside them.

"And your story behind getting him is?"

"That's a story for another day, I'm afraid," Ana waved off her question as they increased to a canter. For ten minutes, it was an awkwardly silent ride. Loki appeared majestic on his stallion, not a single strand falling out of place as the wind roared past them. Dare she say it, he looked kind of hot. "Stop being a weirdo!" she scolded herself. "You have bigger things to think about."

As they approached the palace they began to slow down. "Let us stop at the stables," Loki said, turning to take a different route, but Ana had other ideas.

"I have a bone to pick with your father," she told him defiantly and continued forward.

"You cannot just ride into the Great Hall," Loki protested, following after her, now cantering.

"Just watch me!" Ana shouted behind her as they rode through the open gates and across the marble floors.

"Fuck me!" she cursed as Ana maneuvered the horse towards the great hall. Loki gave an exaggerated sigh.

All of the guards just stared in astonishment at either Benz or Ana, maybe both, as they cantered through the golden palace, right through the doors to the hall where Odin was sitting on the throne with Frigga by his side, looking as if they expected their arrival.

"Oh Odin," Benz slid to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and Ana hopped off, leaving Neena helpless atop the giant horse. "You really know how to make a lady feel special," she shook her head. "Was that really necessary?" she stood before him confidently.

"The justice of our world requires punishment for crimes such as yours. What would you have me do?" he asked purely out of curiosity, not caring for her answer much.

"I don't know," Ana began sassily, "Maybe not throw us in jail for accidents?"

"Is that what you define your murder as? An accident?" he asked condescendingly.

"Yes," Ana said firmly. "As was Neena's," she added, but without the same conviction.

"Barbie, you're really pushing it right now!" Neena echoed, still atop the mighty stallion Benz.

But Ana didn't pay mind to her, instead she climbed the stairs closer to Odin. "Do tell me, All-Father," she ridiculed, "What is it that you want from me?" she asked in a threatening tone, only steps away from the king.

"Know your place," he raised his voice, now standing to face her. "It is only because I allow it that you are still alive. Therefore-"

"Mmmm," Ana gritted her teeth. "You? Allowing me to live?" she almost laughed in his face. "Abandon all your efforts at diplomacy right now. I do not deal politics. Tell me what you want now and we won't have a problem," she sneered.

Neena glanced over to Loki, standing next to his horse. Their eyes met, the same thought running through their minds. "She's pushing him," she muttered. "He's going to snap, soon."

"She knows her limits," Loki muttered back, trusting Ana completely.

Odin took a deep, agitated sigh, "If it concerns you so much," he turned and sat back in his throne. "We have been studying you and your power in order to see if we can utilize it for our advantage. Wars rage across the Nine Realms with decreasing means at which to end them," he explained as Ana backed down the steps.

"My power does not bring peace to the universe," she told him plainly. "It is a tool of destruction, not creation."

Neena looked towards Loki. "What's her power, exactly?"

Loki released his horse and walked silently over to Neena. "She has the ability to manipulate energy of nearly all forms and from nearly any source," he explained.

"Cool," she found herself saying, now understanding a little on how she'd been being healed. "And that power healed me, right? Yet it can destroy the universe?"

"Yes and possibly," he nodded.

"Shit," she whistled. "Barbie's got a lot of power."

"It is clear that you do not yet know the amount of power you possess, therefore we do not currently know how it may be used. This we are studying," Odin explained further.

Ana raised a brow at him, "Yet you just couldn't ask me?" she huffed.

"You are not of this universe and your allegiance is unknown. It would be against Asgard's interest to trust you with a delicate matter such as this."

"But it is my power, is it not? And it is your son that I have been loyal to, is it not?" she begged his question.

"She's got a point there!" Neena called out. "Why don't you stop acting like an asshole and actually listen to her!"

Odin glared at her, though Ana almost laughed. "I see your manners have not improved, child," he dismissed her and turned his attention back to Ana. "If you will cooperate with our efforts and do not harm my people, you may stay as a guest in our realm, but should you betray us, you will receive your punishment," he informed her.

"And what makes you so sure I can trust you?" she challenged.

"My son trusts me. Therefore you should have nothing to fear," Odin answered.

Ana shared a quick glance with Loki that she could not decipher, but then Ana replied, "Very well," before grabbing Benz's reins and striding out of the room with Loki in pursuit.

"You sure know how to talk to the king," Neena commented, feeling Benz's soft pelt against her hands. "I'm surprised he didn't send you to the dungeon again. Or worse."

"It would've been useless. I'm not exactly the easiest person to kill," she said lightheartedly.

"Well," was all she managed to say. Ana just continued to lead Benz by the reins, out of the palace and to the stables. She somehow managed to slide off Benz, though it was a little frightening because of how tall he was. She landed on the ground on two feet, feeling a little bit sore from having to sleep on a floor and then sit on a horse for a good half hour.

"Are you okay, Darling?" Loki asked Ana after handing his horse off to a stableboy.

"I am well," she smiled, "As always."

Loki took her hands in his, "You are not as great as a liar as you think," he pushed strands of her loose blonde hair from her face. "Shall I inquire once more?"

"Your father lied, so why can I not do the same?" she sassed, earning a smile from his lips.

"My father does not offer the best example. He did try to kill you, remember?" he reminded her.

"You know very well that killing me is impossible," she said sullenly.

"And I am very relieved of this," he placed a hand on her cheek before leaning in to kiss her.

"This is disgusting," they could hear Neena mutter in the background, petting Benz on the snout. "PDA is banned in some states."

"Nobody said you had to watch," Ana laughed, pulling from Loki's embrace.

"I wasn't watching!" she protested, brushing the horse's smokey mane. "It's kind of hard not to see you two when you're RIGHT THERE!"

"Shall we leave you then? I am certain we can find a way to occupy ourselves," Loki turned to Ana and smirked.

"You're disgusting."

"You'll understand when you're eight hundred," Ana replied, laughing, as Loki pulled her in for another kiss.

"If I don't die of old age first," Neena mumbled to herself, Benz nudging her hand in reassurance. "So, when do I start learning? In a hundred years?"

Loki separated himself from Ana, to Neena's relief, "You are eager now," he grinned. "We could start working today if you are up for the challenge?"

"Does it look like I have anything better to do?"

"You should make it worth my while since I actually could have better things to do," he said smugly and Ana rolled her eyes behind him.

"Fine," she crossed her arms. "When do we start?"

"Immediately," he turned to Ana, "Bring up another one of those doors, please?" he asked of her.

"Of course, My Prince," she replied. "Right through here," she gestured to one of the stalls.

"Through there?" she asked Ana questioningly. "But it leads to nowhere."

"Don't question your teacher's assistant," Loki said disapprovingly, nudging her forward.

She walked through the door to find herself standing on a bright green luscious mountain. "Wow," she found herself saying. "That's one fine ass mountain."

"Hush," Loki chastised her. "Sit down here," he motioned and he sat a few feet away, his legs folded in front of him. She sat a few feet away from him, legs crossed in the same way. "Now, Ana and I learned two very different ways. I assume you want the least painful?" he questioned snarkily.

"Yes, oh wise one," she snarked back.

Ana rolled her eyes at that one before Loki continued, clearly irritated, "Every single living being contains the energy within themselves that they can train into magic. It is flowing through your veins undetected by any medical means and it is all controlled by your mind; the part of your mind where darkness lies. You have to face whatever demons are holding back your power, which is why it is much easier to learn magic as a child."

"Um, what kind of inner demons are we talking about here?"

"Your history, your mistakes and shortcomings. All of the events you buried in the back of your mind where the demons build the barricade to hide your power from yourself. You must accept your true self," he explained.

She looked around the mountain nervously. "Uh, can we just skip that part? Or is it really necessary to do?"

"If you wish for the experience to be relatively pain free, yes, it is necessary," Loki sighed in annoyance, clearly wanting to move forward.

"Can I have a little time to process all this information?" she asked cautiously.

Loki glared at her, and then looked to Ana for an answer, "I suppose so," he grumbled. "You did not completely waste my time."

"You're welcome."

Damn, looking into herself was not something she wanted to do. What was there to look at? She wasn't normal; deep inside she had always known that. Most girls aren't the reason their fathers are dead. Most weren't the reason they had to move cities, and most, well, she didn't want to think about. So she just sat there in the grass, trying hard to make sense of what Tall, dark and creepy just told her. "So, nice weather up here."

Loki just stood up, offering Ana his arm. "We shall come back when you are prepared to learn."

"Wait, you're going to leave me up here?"

"Did I not make that clear?" he said in a cool tone. "I do have other important things to do."

"Like screw Barbie," she muttered. If they heard her, they didn't comment. They walked through the door and left her there. So she just sat there in the grass with a million curses running through her head. A cool breeze ran across her face, making her hair fly out of place and the beads on her necklace to push against her skin. She touched them lightly, a heavy feeling filling her heart. "Dad," she touched the little spearhead that dangled to her collar bone. "Did I really know you? Why...why did you leave me here?"

She could picture him now, standing in front of their home. He was nearing his fifties; age lines already marking his forehead and eyes. He was a handsome man when he was younger; he could have had anyone in the world, but he never had the time. He was handsome and young, but his eyes held a weight in them. A sadness she could never describe; only sense and see it. The same sadness could be seen in her grandparents eyes when she could catch them off guard. She knew they held resentment for Caucasian people and when given the opportunity, they would speak strongly about those feelings. Her father, however, did not. When she asked as a little girl, he would just pull her onto his lap and stroke her hair. "I do not resent the white people," he told her, letting her fiddle with his necklace as they sat out on the porch swing of their old home. "Just sadness about life."

"Why would you be sad?" she asked innocently. "You have me."

He gave a wan smile. "The heart dies a slow death. Shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains," he patted her back, letting her rest her head on his shoulder and watched as the sun began to set in the sky. "I have loss, child. You cannot read loss, only feel it." She had fallen asleep then, never fully understanding until years later. After all, what child can fully understand loss until she has felt it herself.


(Flashback time!)

Her grandparents told her she had too much water in her; glaring at her as if she were some sort of bug that needed to be stomped on. Her aunt, who spent more time with her then they did, would shake her head in disagreement. "She is a descendant of Son of Rain; the great-granddaughter of White Painted Woman and the Rain. She's a special child, don't you see?"

"No," her grandmother scoffed. "She's a half ling. The spawn of a White woman and my son. There is nothing special about her. She brings shame onto our family."

"Don't listen to her," her aunt whispered into her ear. "You're a good girl, Neena. Now, I believe your mother called a few minutes ago wanting you to come home. Now, go along!"

Her home was only a few minutes away from her grandparents and aunt, a small little house with a porch swing next to the door and a totem pole on the lawn. It had been built in the early nineteen hundreds; slowly falling apart. There were mice in the winter, bats in the summer, and more crickets in the walls than she cared for. Still, it was her home. However, her father was still at work, so it was just her mother in the house.

She stood in front of the house, nails digging into her palms nervously. Should she go in? What if mom was angry with her again? She tended to be angry with her a lot, though she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe she left her shoes in the middle of the floor again. Or did she leave her room messy? She didn't think so, but one could never be sure. She opened the door to her house, remembering to leave her shoes by the door.

Her mom came storming in, anger written all over her face. "You stupid child!" she screeched, waving her hands frantically. "What have I told you about touching my things?"

Did she do something? She knew better than to touch her mom's things. Like her jewelry, cigarettes, her books. "I didn't take anything!" she pleaded. "I promise; I didn't touch anything."

"You lying little bitch!" she smacked her across the face, sending her tumbling onto the floor. She whimpered, but didn't cry. Her mom just continued to rant. "Always touching my things! I'm missing two sets of earrings and I know you took them! Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't take your earrings!" she stood up, glaring hotly at her mom. She stamped her foot angrily, looking directly into her mother's eyes. "Why don't you believe me? I don't want your stupid earrings!"

"You ungrateful little witch!" she pushed her, which was not hard to do considering her body was so small. She ended up landing in between the couch and the wall; elbow smashing into the hard plaster.

"Ow!" she cried out, slowly getting up and rubbing her elbow. She ran up the stairs, mom calling after in a angry tone.

"You get back here you bitch! I know you took my earrings! Give them back!"

"I don't have them!" she replied, locking the door behind her. She knew her mom didn't follow her up the stairs, but she could hear her grumble and curse. "Why doesn't she believe me?" she flopped onto her bed, holding her stuffed bear close to her. "I hate her," she grumbled. "Why won't she leave me alone?"

The sun was setting in the west, the annoying crickets sounding even louder than they did during the day. Her father was at an art convention, so he wouldn't be back till tomorrow. She closed her eyes, holding the bear even tighter. Tomorrow she would start pre-kindergarten and her father wouldn't be there to see her off. She'd already met her teacher and she seemed like a nice lady, but all she wanted was her father. If only her mom could disappear; vanish and never return, then things could be happy.

"Until you give me my earrings back, there will be no dinner!" her mom called from the door.

"I don't have your stupid earrings!" she shot back.

"One day I'll be rid of you," she could hear her mom mutter as she stepped away from the door. The rest of it she couldn't hear, but she swore it sounded like "I should have gotten rid of you when you first came into this house."

She curled her knees into herself, holding back the tears of anger. Tomorrow she would start school for the first time; a pre-kindergarten thing or so her father told her. That meant being near new kids and have another adult figure in her life. She clutched the bear even tigher. "Um, spirits of the tribe?" she started, not exactly sure what to say. Her father and mother didn't pray, so how was it done? "I know I've been a bad girl; why else would Mommy hate me, but...please, can I have at least one friend? Mommy and Grandma say I'm a horrible girl, but please? Only one friend would be nice."

For that night, she just laid in bed and stared blankly out the window. Why was her mom so weird? When her father was home, she would constantly go on about how she would protect her and promise to always keep her safety in mind. Her father bought it, but part of him knew it was a lie. She couldn't prove it, but she had a feeling he knew that mommy was a liar. But he never saw mommy hit her or push her. She once locked her in the cellar for three hours with no light or water and no protection for what could be down there.

When it was time for school the next morning, she had to walk in the pouring rain. It was a fifteen minute walk, but by five minutes she was already soaked and shivering. The Pre-kindergarten building was the size of a small house, with a playground in the front yard and parking lot for cars. She was the last one to show up, soaking wet and at least twenty pairs of eyes staring at her. The teacher didn't yell at her or ask her why she was late; she just made her sit in the back with some boy.

They sat in silence while the teacher lady talked, but she could feel his eyes on her. He poked her once and she ignored him. When he poked her again, she glared. "Quit poking me!" she snapped, scooting away from him. "You stupid boy."

"I'm not stupid!" he countered, setting his pencil down. "I wanted your attention. My name is Luke, what's yours?"

"...Neena," she offered slowly, almost shyly.

"Do you want to play with the blocks over there?" he asked, pointing towards the blue, red, yellow and green objects. "I want to play with them. We can build a castle!"

"Sure?" she replied, a bit unsure. That was all the response he needed and he grabbed her hand, pulling her along to follow him. She sat silently next to him, watching as he arranged the blocks in a fashion that seemed almost chaotic. He was taller than she was, with strawberry blonde hair and soft green eyes. She blushed, thinking him to be rather cute.

"Here," he handed her a few blocks. "Let's get this castle built. We only have an hour until we have to clean up. Or Mrs. McIntire will make us share with the other kids."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked frankly.

"I don't want to play with them," he shrugged. "I want to play with you."

She blushed again, turning a rather dark shade of pink. She wanted to hide her face in her hair, but she had to put it in a ponytail and it was still rather wet. He began to build the base of the castle, all the yellow blocks going on the bottom. "You should smile more," he began after a few moments of silence.

"Why?"

"I bet you'd look a lot nicer if you smiled," he smiled himself, the very look of it making her feel a little warmer. "I dare you to smile! Come on, I know you can do it."

She blinked at him, still flushing, and then turned her lips upward. "Happy now?" she asked curiously.

"Yup," he nodded, then his green eyes locked into hers. "Why don't you smile? Don't you have something to smile about?"

She shook her head. "No," she took two green blocks, stacking the two of them onto the tower fortress they were beginning to construct. "Mommy never smiles, Daddy doesn't smile," she shrugged. "Daddy always looks sad."

"That doesn't mean you have to," he commented. "You should find something to smile about. Okay?"

"Okay."

For the rest of the day, they played together and worked on their brick castle. He shared his lunch with her, although the teacher said he didn't have to. By afternoon, when the day was done, he insisted on coming home with her. She hoped her father would be home so she could introduce Luke to him. Instead, she just saw her mom's car and she froze, grabbing his hand as he moved to enter the house. "Don't!" she called to him. "Mommy will get mad. She doesn't like me."

"What kind of mom doesn't like her own kid?" he asked, a bit confused.

"Mine," she grumbled and before she could stop herself, things she hadn't even told her father came spilling out. "She hits me and says mean things to me. She locked me in a cellar earlier this year and doesn't feed me when Daddy is away. Don't go in; she'll hate you too!"

"I can handle her!" he started, taking her hand with his and walked into the house. "Why didn't you tell your dad?"

"I don't know how! Don't go in, she'll hurt you!"

"Doubt it!"

"Don't be stupid!" she grumbled, following him. "She will hurt you!"

Surprisingly, the house was quiet. She tiptoed behind Luke, nervously looking around for her mom. In the kitchen, there was a big bottle of uncapped bleach on the table, so she figured her mom must be cleaning. Luke looked around, even looking under the table. "I don't see her. Are you sure she's here?"

"Her car is here!" she looked around, going towards the sink to look out the window. "I don't know where she is."

The door to the kitchen opened, and a hand grabbed the back collar of her shirt. A cup was in her hand, filled with a strong smelling clear liquid. "I should have taken care of you years ago," her mom slurred, looking disheveled and not like her usual self. "You are the reason my marriage is ruined! If you hadn't come into existence!"

"LET ME GO!" she screamed, fighting against her as her mom tried to push the glass towards her lips. "STOP IT! I'M SORRY, MOMMY! LET ME GO!"

"Let her go!" she remembered Luke was here. While he was so much smaller than her mom, he easily crashed into her. She stumbled, a few contents of the glass dropping onto the floor where it made a hissing sound. Neena collapsed on the ground near the stain, eyes wide with shock.

Her mom cried out, turning to the boy. "You little brat!" she sneered, grabbing him easily. "You dare to hit me! I'll teach you; I'll kill you both!"

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Her feet couldn't move; her hands were trembling. She could see Luke struggling to get free and her mom trying to suffocate him with her hands after slapping and punching him in the face. Then, she stopped trembling. In that moment, she remembered she had seen this scene before. Over and over again. Her mom had hit her before, tried to kill her by locking her in a cellar for what could have been days if her father hadn't come home. It was always happening right in front of her, but a part of her would pretend not to notice. The world, in the eyes she had only seen with for a few years, was merciless.

That moment, her body stopped shaking. Her hands stopped trembling and she could think clearly. "Kill," a voice in her head started. "Kill her!" Luke's life depended on her. Mommy was going to kill Luke! Her Luke; her friend! This woman had shown her nothing but cruelty. A few weeks ago, she tried to hug her; thinking that was how mothers and daughters showed love to one another, but she'd been slapped instead. "She's not my mother," the voice in her head said clearly. "She's an evil witch. I want her dead! Die, die, die, die, DIE!"

Her mom instantly let go of Luke, the boy dropping to floor and sputtering. She hurried over to him, grabbing his arm and watching her mom. Her mom lit up like a firework, screaming and frantically running around the kitchen trying to put herself out. The fire was so strong that they could feel it; Luke vomiting once after the smell of burned flesh reached his nose. She screamed for a few more seconds before the fire disappeared, her charred body falling to the ground with a sickening crunch.

"What...what did you do?" Luke asked, eyes going wide. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" she answered, trembling again. "I...I'm not sure! I don't have any matches!"

Apparently a neighbor had heard the screaming and the police were called. They were confused by the sight of a body that had obviously been on fire, but there were no remains of any fire being started in the house. Both of them were frightened and Luke's hand never left hers, his small hand clenched tightly in hers. They explained to the police what had happened, that she had tried to kill both her and Luke, and then it happened.

Her father sat on the porch, head in his hands as everything poured out of her. The moon was beginning to rise, the air still smelling of rain as she cried; explaining all that had been happening all these years. Not even six years old, and she had an understanding of the world that some adults still didn't have. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she cried into her hands. "I'm sorry; please don't be mad."

Her father didn't say anything, but she could feel that he felt shame. Not towards her, but with himself. He blamed himself for the abuse; not her.

"Hey,"

She lifted her face from her hands, feeling something being draped around her. Luke stood in front of her, blushing madly. "Don't cry," he said quietly. "It makes you look sad. This blanket is warm, right? And people like being warm. Mommy said they make people feel safe."

He was right; the blanket did feel warm. "It's warm," she found herself saying outloud. "Very warm."

"Don't cry anymore," Luke took her hand into his. "I'll protect you from now so you don't have to be sad anymore. I'll always be by your side, no matter what, I promise. So smile more, okay?"

She felt more tears gather in her eyes, her heart racing faster. A few more tears slipped down her face before a cascade of tears slipped down. "Okay," she found herself saying in between sobs. She then turned her lips upwards, smiling. "Is this good?"

"Yeah."


It was a simple act; a simple statement. And yet to learn kindness after so much unkindness. There she had been, a little girl with more courage than she actually knew would find her prayers answered. Luke had meant everything to her. He was her entire world for two years. He was her best friend, her reason to keep smiling through the months of counseling. They were inseparable; he was her one beautiful person in this cruel merciless world. With him, she had gone from a girl feeling nothing but void emptiness to someone with purpose.

A world of cruelty. That's what she had been born into. But in this world, she had found someone she could find happiness with; to escape the world. Now he was gone. After the accident, she shut everything off. The world went back to being bleak and meaningless. She closed her feelings of helplessness; hiding behind her sharp tongue and pointing out others flaws to hide her own vulnerabilities. It wasn't a way to live, she knew that deep down, but what did it mean to live?

What was it to love? Looking back now, her parents had never shown love to one another. There were days they didn't even speak. Mom never told her how to love; she had shrugged her off and hit her. Dad never told her how to feel; he never held her mom's hand or spoken sweetly to her the way couples in love were supposed to. They ignored each other; acted like they carried the plague. Her father never really smiled; only occasionally. He'd disappear to his own world. A world she would never understand, or know at all.

Who was her father? Did she ever really know him? He raised her, told her stories, painted and drew with her, but did she really know him? It was like being in a play and now that play was over. She knew that now. She knew her world was no more permanent than a wave rising on the ocean. Whatever the struggles and triumphs, however often she may suffer, all too soon they bleed together until they are no longer recognizable.

Supposedly she had too much water, or so her grandmother would tell her. Yet, two people had caught on fire in her presence. The second one had been completely on accident, but she wouldn't deny the eery feeling that had risen while she backed away from him. She told him to burn in hell and he caught on fire. It was like her stepmother all over again, though the only difference was that she had been aware of her actions. She wanted her stepmother to die. The guard was just an accident, but she had still done it. She had been a murderer since she was five years old. She just didn't want to accept that fact.

But could she really be called a murderer? Didn't her stepmother get what she deserved? She had tried to kill her; tried to kill Luke. Maybe it was still considered murder, but couldn't it be called self defense too? That's what the court had ruled, though they had no idea how a fire could start and not leave damage on the home. The jury had decided that she hadn't done it and it was left alone. Children were afraid of her after that. All the kids except for Luke. True to his word, he always remained on her side. Till the very end.

"Why do you cry, child?"

She opened her eyes, almost falling backwards at the sight before her. A woman, swarthy and beautiful stood before her. In a dress that seemed to dissolve around her and change colors when reflected on the light. Her eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors and her smile didn't look so pleasant. If anything, it looked like she was on hallucinogens. "Who the hell are you?" she asked, scooting away from the woman.

The woman just smiled that creepy smile of hers, extending her right hand in offering. "My name is Njorun, little one. The humans worshiped me as a goddess of dreams, but I am so much more than that. I can look right into your soul, Neena. I can see your dreams and fears. Dreams often promote these, so I can observe the human race with ease."

She frowned. "So you've been stalking me. Well, that's not creepy at all."

The woman continued to smile that weird smile of hers. "Sit down with me," she did as she was told, having a weird feeling that this woman could kill her very easily. When she was situated, the dark woman continued. "It is true, I have observed you, but do not be frightened. I observe many human beings to guide their dreams; to help them make sense of something in the best way I know how. I indirectly guide the paths we're meant to follow."

"So you're a really important Asgardian?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Njorun's face soured. "No," she answered back in a disgusted voice. "In fact, most do not think I exist. Very few actually know who I am. The humans don't really remember me, but it's not their fault. It's Odin's."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Is everything Odin's fault?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "I guess that makes sense; he seems like the type of guy to have a lot of enemies."

The woman's lips pursed in either amusement or annoyance. "You certainly have a way with words, child. So much like your mother."

"Wait, you know my mom?"

"Of course. Everyone does," she mused, very much aware of Neena's confused look. "Well, they might see her, but they do not know of her. I'm not surprised she hasn't made herself aware to you. What a pity. She is a friend of mine, you know."

Neena leaned forward, almost ready to start pleading with her. "Can't you tell me where she is? She...she's all the family I have left."

"She will appear to you when it is time," Njorun nodded. "You will meet others like me; others who have been forgotten by the so called royal family," her image changed and instead of a peaceful, beautiful woman, she looked disfigured; like something horrible she would see in a dream. She stretched her lips back, showing sharp pointed teeth that gleamed in the sunlight. Then, she stopped and the image of a youthful woman appeared. "Sorry, child. Odin and his family bring up some rather painful memories. That is why I do not spend much time in this realm."

"But you're Asgardian. How can that be?"

"I don't really have a physical form. I am the mind; the dreams of all species. I was born in this realm, but I am immortal. As long as there is life and imagination, I will be here. I will be here until the end of life; when there are no more dreams to create."

Okay, well that was rather deep. She really didn't need more deep thinking. "Okay, so why are you here?"

"To tell you that I am on your side. I see a very large destiny before you, Neena. It is my job to guide you towards that path. Odin is no friend of yours, remember that. You were created for a purpose and when the time comes, you will know that purpose."

"That doesn't tell me anything! Will people just give me straight answers for once?"

"May I inquire as to who you are talking to?"

She jumped, twisting around to see Loki and Ana standing behind her, both looking rather curious as to what she was doing. "I'm talking with someone," she answered, turning her face back to Njorun.

"There's no one there," Ana replied with a smirk. "You're talking to yourself."

"No I'm not; there's someone right here! Can't you see her?"

"Unless we've all gone blind, no."

Njorun just placed a shadowy finger to her lips. "They can't see me unless I want them to see me. I will be with you, child. Most people forget me when I speak with them, but you will not. It is important that you remember me."

"Uh, okay?"

She then disappeared, leaving her to look like she really was talking to herself. Loki and Ana just stared at her, most likely thinking that she needed to be sent in for testing. "Will you stop looking at me?" she snapped, flushing pink. "I'm not crazy; there was someone there!"

"Maybe we should get her tested," Ana directed towards Loki before looking at her curiously. "You've been crying."

A part of her wanted to shout "Well not shit!", but she refrained from doing so. Instead, she placed a hand to her cheek and wiped the dry tear marks away. "Oh, yeah," she offered a weak smile. "I was doing some, uh, reflecting."

"And what did you learn?" Loki inquired.

"That I'm a murderer," she felt her shoulders sag at the very thought of the deaths she had caused. "And that I didn't know my father at all, but," she touched the beaded necklace, not looking at either of them. "I think I'll remember him as the father I knew. I don't know his reasons for lying to me and putting up with my Step-mom, but it doesn't matter now. I mean, I still want to know his reasons and all, but I'll never stop loving him."

The words just kind of flowed out; not even having to think about what she was going to say. In a way, it felt that a weight had been released off her shoulders. Ana was surprisingly quiet, arms crossed and hair blowing in the breeze. Loki's face she couldn't read at all, but that was no surprise. In a way, it kind of reminded her of her father. Often times his face was unreadable too.

"So…" she started aimlessly. "Now what?"

"We begin your first lesson," Loki began, in all prestige and eloquence. "Now that you have for the most part cleared your conscious, you can begin to learn the basics. One of the first things I learned was moving objects."

She frowned, looking at him like he was crazy. "That's a beginner's lesson?"

"Yes. It's quite simple, really."

"And how exactly do you do that?"

He picked a rock up from the ground, holding the stone in the flat of his palm. "Levitation is simple; it's the moving it around that's the tricky part," the stone levitated in his hand, staying put for several seconds before moving next to his head. "Once you can do that, you can do just about anything, really."

He motioned for her to hold out her hand and the moment her palm was flat, the stone landed in it.

She stared at it for a few seconds, eyebrow raised in question. "So, I just lift it from my hand?"

"Yes, I believe we've established that."

She made a face, ignoring Ana's snicker. "Okay, sounds easy enough," she closed her eyes briefly before opening them. "So, do you just will the stone to move?"

"Clear your mind," Ana offered. "Focus on the stone; nothing else."

It took a few moments of deep concentration. Several times she found herself distracted by the smallest of things. From leaves blowing in the wind to Loki's flawlessly perfect hair. She blushed a few times at her thoughts getting distracted, but otherwise stared at the stone. "Try harder," Loki sighed. "You're not concentrating."

"I am so!"

"Don't argue with the teacher."

Well, that put her in her place. She gave him a sullen look, but otherwise focused her attention back on the stone. Trying to do what Ana told her was bit difficult. Unlike the leaves blowing from the trees nearby, a stone was a bit firmer. "This is hopeless!" she griped, almost ready to chuck the object. "Stupid thing won't levitate!"

"Giving up so soon?" Ana asked, almost in disappointment.

"Water is powerful. It can put out fire and even wash away earth. Water can carve its way through stone and when trapped, water makes a new path."

Her father's words echoed in her ear. It was a quote he often said to her when she was feeling frustrated. She had no idea where he got it from, but she could almost sense him next to her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes to block everyone out. "You can do this," she tried to give herself a pep talk. "It's a simple little stone. I don't care what Grandma says, water is powerful. I can do this."

She could feel the stone pulsing in her hand, almost like it had a life of its own. She imagined the leaves; weightless and flowing freely in the wind. The leaves met no resistance, no feeling of pressure to hold them down. All she had to do was lift a simple stone with magic or something of that sort. Was she focusing too hard? Or was she not focusing enough? She tried to picture it in her mind, imagining a stone rising from her palm and into the air...

"Well, it looks like she has some skill."

She opened her eyes, hearing Loki's voice. She blinked in surprise, blue eyes flashing open to see the stone just lying on her palm. At first, she didn't know what he was talking about until she saw it twitch once, then twice, before going completely still. She was overjoyed that she almost let out a whoop. So what if it didn't exactly levitate? It did twitch in her palm, twitching around for a single moment before laying flat in her palm again. That was an improvement and if she were completely honest, quite an achievement if she did say so herself.

"Let's return to the palace," Loki interrupted, with his usual calm tone. His face, as usual, was unreadable. He linked his arm into Ana's respectively. "Would you do the honor, darling?"

A door appeared in the middle of the field and they stepped through it. She was the last to enter, and to her wonder, they were in the throne room. Odin was not on his throne; rather the hall was empty, but it sent an eerie chill down her spine to be back at the place. Ana placed a hand on Loki's nose, his face flinching for a few seconds while she healed him.

It did make her feel bad, it truly did. She didn't intend to hurt anybody. Maybe he wasn't going to teach her now?

"We'll begin lesson two tomorrow," he said to her, pulling her out of her worries. "Work on levitating more or you'll fall behind."

"Sure," she offered weakly, hiding her embarrassment behind a smile.

The door to the throne room opened, making her jump in shock. She was expecting Odin or Frigga to enter, but instead it was a man looking to be in his early forties or late thirties. Her eyes went wide, her stomach churning violently. She could feel the blood drain from her face and her instincts were to flee. The man's eyes met hers and he grinned. "Hello Neena," he greeted with a nod to from his head. "It's been awhile since we've met."

"It's you," her voice, damn the thing, quivered. "But how?"

Ana narrowed her eyes. "Neena, do you know him?"

Instead of answering the blonde, she bolted from the room. This was too much, way too much. She had already visited her past once today. She didn't want to revisit other ghosts from her past. She ran down the hall, slippered feet lightly tapping the floor. She needed to be alone; to escape everything in her life. Her father's death, her mother being some sort of alien, learning magic, and now seeing her former psychiatrist again? Throwing the door to her room open, she stepped inside and slammed it shut, leaning against the doorframe with shaky breaths. She pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to control her breathing. "Get it together," she growled to herself. "So your psychiatrist turned out to be an alien? It doesn't affect you at all!"

She paced around her room, stomping from the door of the balcony to the door to her room. Hands threading through her short black hair and pulling tightly on the locks. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, my life," she grumbled and continued to stomp flamboyantly around the room. She threw a hairbrush pathetically at the vanity, the golden object bouncing off the thick mirror and falling sadly onto the floor with a clunk.

"Lame," she sighed and flopped like a star fish onto her bed. "Damnit all, why is this happening?"

Of course, no one answered her and the room remained silent. The late rays of the sun flowed into her room and catching her face. It felt warm, reminding her of the way the sun used to feel back home. A pang of sadness rolled through her body and she curled up into a ball, clutching her necklace tightly. No tears fell, but she felt the tightness in her throat and her eyes start to smart. "What does all this mean?" she asked herself quietly, her body feeling so worn out from the day's events. "Why can't I remember?"