Author's note: Hope everyone had a good summer! I was busy working, and then life just kind of got in the way. I'm back at school now, but I hope you all keep reading!
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing but original characters. Ana belongs to MuchAdo96
She didn't recall falling asleep; for suddenly she felt warm hand shaking her gently. "My lady, what are you doing on the floor?"
Her blue eyes instantly flashed open, and she almost kicked Ingrid in the face. She flailed about, trying to get her hair out of her face and process the world around her. Ingrid had taken a step back, and she knew she was concerned by the way her brow furrowed and her brown eyes stared at her. "You've been in that position for a while," the young woman spoke, her voice like the breeze in springtime. "I would have woken you up had I known you were on the floor."
She frowned, looking up towards the maid. "How'd you know I was asleep?"
"Oh, Einar came to make sure you were alright" Ingrid glanced over at her, kneeling down to life something off her. Looking down, she finally realized someone had draped a blanket on her in the middle of the night. "He said you were sleeping and asked me to come by later."
"Oh."
She stood up, cringing at how sore her back was. She didn't ever recommend sleeping on the floor to anyone; preferring soft mattresses. She followed Ingrid silently to the bathing room, now very much aware of how greasy her hair was. She wrinkled her nose, waiting for the water to rise and become warm enough to get in. Ingrid didn't say much; she hummed and tested the water, adjusting it here and there. So she stood there, not entirely sure what to say. The events of yesterday were racing across her mind and a part of her dreaded seeing Loki again. He was sure to be mad at her, wouldn't he? Whatever she had done; it wasn't good and it looked like it had hurt him.
"My lady?" Ingrid's voice pulled her back to the present, the young woman motioning her head towards the water. "Your bath is ready. I'll turn around now, okay?"
"Oh, thanks."
When did she get this spacy? As she stripped out of the boring grey dress and slid down into the water, she sighed. "Ingrid," she started cautiously, surprised by how tired she sounded. She couldn't help but feel so guilty and who else was she supposed to talk to? She hadn't seen Ana or Frigga in awhile. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Ingrid gathered some sweet smelling oil; a scent she couldn't place but kind of liked. "You can ask me anything. Are you having womanhood problems?"
"What? No! Okay, well, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about," she blushed so hard, not expecting the maid to bring that topic up. She slid further into the warm water, thoughts drifting back to the events of the previous day. "So, have you ever done something bad? And you know it was bad, but you didn't know how to apologize for it?"
She half expected Ingrid to think she was crazy, or tell her no, but the older woman nodded. "We've all done things we regret, Neena," she twisted her head around, surprised that the woman used her actual name. "There was a time, not too long before you came here that my fiance and I got in a disagreement. I said some things and he said some things; both of which we didn't mean. We almost cancelled our wedding because of the fight and didn't speak to each other for a while. I regretted what I said, but I didn't know how to take it back."
"So what did you do?" She asked, closing her eyes as the woman's fingers scraped her scalp gently. "You're still getting married, aren't you?"
"Yes," Ingrid answered, continuing to scrub at her head. "But we had to work out our issues. I won't bore you with the details, but even though we did get past the fight, we both couldn't take back what we said. We can forgive, and move on towards forgetting it, but the point still stands that we said hurtful things."
"Oh," she slumped down into the circular tub, staring at her reflection in the soapy water. "So...when's the wedding?"
"After the coronation next week," Ingrid replied cheerfully, looking at the engagement ring on her finger with a gentle smile on her face. "I've been waiting my whole life for this moment."
She could have said something sarcastic, but she didn't. Under any other circumstance, she would have but Ingrid had just given her advice; shared something personal with her. She didn't deserve a sarcastic comment, so she kept her mouth shut. There was too much going on anyway, and all these thoughts were running around loose in her mind. When she was normally this stressed, the first thing she did was lash out at the people around; pushing away whom ever she could.
That probably explained why her time here sucked.
So she sat there in the tub, letting Ingrid wash her hair while she attempted to relax. She tried to take deep breaths, something teachers at school recommended her to do before she lashed out at someone. It did little to calm the anxiety, but the feel of Ingrid's fingers against her scalp felt good, easing the tension that continued to build up. She had no idea what she was going to do; how to apologize for something she didn't even know she could do.
It was good to be clean though. The citrus smelling oils smelled nice and the feel of all grunge washing away was probably the best feeling in the world. The towel she was wrapped in now as she stepped from the water was still warm, smelling of lavender. Despite having to wear a dress that reminded her way too much of the one angry with her at the moment, she didn't say anything. As the brunette brushed her hair, untangling the knots and talking about her wedding, she listened. Until she brought up the subject of the coronation. "What would you like to wear?" The woman asked cheerfully. "I am thinking that you would look good in pink."
She blinked in surprise, taken off guard by the question. "Wait, I'm actually going to that? I don't think I was invited considering...well, I kind of dropped in your realm by surprise."
"The Queen said you're a guest of hers and I'm sure Prince Thor would love to have you there. He's friendly with everyone, you know," Ingrid flushed pink at the mention of the Prince of Asgard. "He wouldn't mind if you went."
"And Pirate guy?"
"What?"
"Odin," she amended, noticing Ingrid narrow her eyes in disapproval. "I'm pretty sure the guy would rather me walk off a mountain than be near me."
Ingrid just shook her head, biting the corner of her lip as she fought off a smile. "The All-father is just wary of you; for good reason," she said evenly, and she didn't take offense to it. "You did show up in a rather odd way and no one knows how you were able to activate the bifrost. Even Heimdall doesn't know."
"Fantastic," she grumbled, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Well, I suppose it can't get any worse. Don't tell me you already have something picked out."
"As a matter of fact, I do!"
She felt tempted to bang her head on the vanity, but refrained from doing so. The last thing she needed was another headache. Ingrid stepped gracefully over to the wardrobe, gently opening the doors to reveal whatever she had hidden inside. She pulled out a long pastel pink dress, holding it up with a grin. "I think it will look good on you," Ingrid looked pleased with herself. "I picked it out. Since you're still young, I tried to keep it appropriate. It does expose a bit of your collarbone, but nothing that would make you feel uncomfortable."
She had to admit, it did look pretty. She walked over to it, feeling the material with her fingertips. It felt like silk. The waistline had black patterns that reminded her vaguely of butterflies or flowers. The same pattern was on the sleeves, which were transparent she didn't think they were there. She thought back to the day when she ate with the royal family and the pretty blue dress she wore. Up until that point, she hadn't worn a dress since she was little and that was just a simple white sundress. She wore it whenever she could, along with her floppy straw sun hat. She still had the hat; it was lying somewhere in her room back at home…
She swallowed hard, the bitter fact that her home was gone brought a dull ache to her chest. She tried hard not to think about it, but it kept resurfacing and the desire to go home was as strong as ever. If Ingrid sensed her change of mood, she didn't say anything and put the dress back in the wardrobe, closing it quietly.
Knock, knock
"I wonder who that could be," Ingrid looked confused, but headed over to the door anyway. As the Asgardian woman headed over to the door, she felt nauseous. What if it was Loki here to throw her in the dungeon? Or worse! Toss her over the bridge so she could fall into oblivion!
"Oh, Einar, it's you!"
She wasn't sure if she should be relieved, or angry. She was still upset with him for treating her like a potato sack. He stood at the entrance of the doorway calmly, giving a polite smile and little bow to Ingrid. "Excuse me," he told the tall woman before looking over to her with those calm dark eyes. "The prisoner has requested to see you, my lady."
She blinked, looking to Ingrid in confusion. "What prisoner?"
Ingrid just looked uneasy, twisting her lips into a frown and stepping away from the door to go make herself busy. She looked back to Einar, glaring at him. "What prisoner?"
Einar didn't seemed bothered by her glare, and he only fixed her that reserved look he always wore. "The man you ran away from earlier two days ago," the guard stated simply. "He has requested an audience from you."
"And the pirate is okay with this?"
"He believes the man has information about how you came to be here and that you might be able to tell him."
She crossed her arms defensively, heart pounding hard against her ribcage at the thought of seeing Dr...whatever his name was. In the most snarkiest tone she could manage, she spoke. "And what makes you think I want to talk to him?"
If anything, the reserved expression Einar wore changed. She had to narrow her eyes to get a better reading of it, finding that his usual relaxed expression changed to that of concern and suspicion. He stood straight, voice as calm and steady as it usually was. "He said if you didn't, there would be consequences."
"And what would that be? Spending the night in the dungeons?"
"I don't believe you would want to find out."
She had to think about it. Odin already disliked her and if she really thought about it, if he appeared randomly in her house, she would be suspicious too. That didn't mean she liked him, but what else could be worse than a dungeon? What more could he do? Maybe he would throw her over the bridge; she was sure he'd get a kick out of that. "Fine," she sighed, grabbing a random pair of flats from the side of her bed and putting them on her feet. She headed back over to the door, walking right past the guard. "Let's go."
She was surprised she remembered the way, although she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Einar followed her silently, looking lost in thought. Then again, his face was always unreadable and she found it frustrating. She couldn't even read Loki, though he was still upset with her. She had a feeling Ana knew, though she hadn't seen the blonde in a while. She briefly wondered what Barbie was up to, but suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder lightly.
"I'm sorry, my lady," Einar stopped her from walking and she turned swiftly to face him, about ready to give a snide comment. He narrowed his eyes, probably waiting for her to say something and when she didn't, he continued. "I don't trust this man. Promise me you will be careful; he has a reputation of being a snake."
"I already know him," she sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling. He didn't look all impressed by this, but at the moment, she didn't care. "I just don't remember who he is."
"Just be careful," he sighed, sounding mildly tired. "We do not know why he wants to speak with you. He was your doctor, was he not?"
"Psychiatrist, or something like that," she looked towards the entrance of the dungeons, two guards watching them with intrigue. "To be honest, I'm not sure what he was."
"I see."
She shrugged her shoulders, turning around again to continue their journey to the dungeon. It was as dark and unbearably cold as she remembers, wrapping her arms around herself to keep from shaking. The prisoners sneered at her and for the ones she recognized, she was almost tempted to wave at them. Almost; that would probably be a bad idea. Wherever they were keeping this doctor, he seemed to be locked pretty far away from the others. Surely he wasn't that dangerous? He was a middle aged man for crying out loud!
By the time they reached his cell, she could feel her heart drop to her stomach. He hadn't changed at all; though why was she not surprised? His graying blonde hair was messier, probably due from not being able to brush and clean it. His face, as pale as hers, looked ashy from lack of sun but his blue-gray eyes lit up with disturbing glee when he saw her. From his spot against the wall, he stood up, smiling at her pleasantly despite the fact he was in a dungeon. "Neena," he greeted her with that creepy smile. "It's been a long time. My, my, look how you've grown."
"Well, you're just as creepy as ever," she retorted, and she could sense Einar was agitated. She didn't blame him for not wanting to be down her, but she wasn't one to back down. "Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?"
All the doctor did was laugh, the very sound causing her to shudder a little. He smiled again, shaking his head as he let out a little chuckle. "You haven't changed at all, little one," he stood to his feet, stepping over slowly to her to stand right in front of the force field or whatever it was that was currently confining him. "How has Asgard been treating you? I've heard you've spent a few nights down here."
"I'm fine; how are you liking being locked in there?" She sassed him, despite Einar giving her a look that meant she shouldn't. This man didn't scare her; very few things in life did. "Now what did you want to talk about?"
"Still so fiesty; it's a rather annoying quality, wouldn't you think? Then again, your mother's the same way and I find her to be more appealing."
"Okay, ew, that's my mom you're talking about," she wrinkled her nose in distaste, and for a moment, she swore she saw Einar fighting back a smile. "What do you know about my mom? Who is she?"
"All in due time, Neena," the doctor chuckled once again, his eyes staring directly into hers. "I hear you've been studying magic with Prince Loki. How's that going?"
"Fantastic," she replied in a sassy voice, trying very hard to keep her face as non-expressive as possible. "Now quit avoiding the subject."
"I hear you did something to him. It seems you subconsciously remember what I thought you. I had hoped you would," he leaned back slightly, looking at her with what she almost dared to call pride. "Out of all my students, you were my favorite."
She rolled her eyes, though her stomach lurched and she felt like throwing up. "Well that's all fine and dandy, but you were my psychiatrist. I wasn't your student, dumbass," she scoffed, but there was doubt lying behind it. What was it she didn't remember? "Is that all you have to say? If so, I'm leaving."
"Now, now, don't be so impatient," he smirked and crossed his arms behind his back. "I will explain everything in due time. What was it like, being able to know things about the Prince he hasn't shared with anyone?"
That caught her attention and she stepped forward, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you know? How did you find out? What was it? Explain!"
"It's all very simple," he waved his hand dismissively, as if her questions were stupid. Which they were not! He smiled at her again. "If you must know, it was your mother's idea. There's more to you than you think, Neena. Do you really think your existence is a mere coincidence?"
When she didn't say anything, opting to glare instead, he continued to monologue. "Your entire existence has been planned for a while now, little one. We all knew you would come to Asgard eventually and we've been preparing ourselves for this day. Your true destiny is here, child. Your home is in Asgard."
She stepped back in shock, Einar taking a step forward with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "That's bullshit!" She snapped, jaw tightening as her glare intensified. "My home is on Earth! Tell me who my mom is so we can sort through this! Now!"
"Don't be so bossy," he had the nerve to wag a finger at her, a smirk curling on his thin ugly lips. "Don't you want to know more about yourself? What you could possibly do?"
"All I can do is twitch a rock, and by the looks of it, that's about it," she thought that sounded about right. After the events of yesterday, she doubted Loki would want to teach her anymore. "I'm about as average as they go and trust me, I am okay with that."
"That's where you're wrong," he narrowed his eyes, stepping even closer to the field separating them. "You do not give yourself enough credit. Remember Luke?" He smirked as she bristled at the mention of her friend. "You are more powerful than you know right now. I had to block your memories of our time together. It was your mother's wish, but it was better that way. We couldn't have you going crazy, now would we?"
"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy; Einar here would know," the guard did say anything as she mentioned his name. She looked back to the doctor, placing her hands on her hips. "Is there actually anything useful you'd like to share?"
"You're as stubborn as I remember," he sighed and shook his head. "Always questioning me and giving retorts. You should have been raised in Asgard; you wouldn't have had an attitude problem here."
"Well too bad buddy," she rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "Now what did you do to me when I was little? What did you do?"
"Why don't I show you?"
She didn't expect for him to cross the barrier, and she let out a yelp and stepped back as he broke through. The field encasing the cell broke out into gold particles, grabbing the attention of all the other prisoners, who banged on the walls of their cages to see if theirs would do the same thing. Einar was dumbfounded for a moment, but he wasn't quick enough to stop the doctor from jumping off the ledge and moving over to her.
He grabbed her head, bringing his face so close to hers she could smell his breath. "You are going to remember," he hissed, his fingertips burning against her skin. "And you will go beyond all our expectations!"
The last thing she heard before her world went black was the sound of a sword being unsheathed and the sound of metal piercing flesh.
"Focus Neena, pay attention to your surroundings."
"But this is boring! We've been doing it for an hour."
She swung her legs out, feet not even touching the ground as the two of them sat on the park bench. A slight breeze was in the air, brushing a few loose strands of black hair that tickled her face. The day was sunny, with little clouds rolling across the blue sky of New Mexico. She sat on the park bench and sighed, looking longingly at the playground nearby. Other kids got to play on the jungle gym, so why couldn't she? Oh right, because she had to spend time with stupid Dr. Mortenson. And all this was because her step-mother caught on fire, which was not her fault! She swore to everyone she did not have matches!
Dr. Mortenson sighed in exasperation, quickly hiding it with that weird smile he always wore. "The sooner you do what I ask, the sooner your father can come and pick you up."
"Fine…" she sighed and looked back out to the playground. "So, what am I supposed to do again?"
"See that man in the gray suit? I want you to look into his mind."
She did what she was told, though she made sure to give another sigh of exasperation. Why he was making her do this didn't seem very relaxing. Her daddy said she had to go because she needed someone to talk to. She didn't understand why; this didn't seem very helpful. He was always making her do weird stuff and she hadn't the slightest idea why.
"Why do I have to do this?"
"I've told you before why, Neena. It's all for your benefit. The sooner you do what I ask the sooner you'll be closing to master it."
She gave him a look before sighing once more and closing her eyes. The man in the gray suit...middle aged, tall, possibly having fights with his wife; she could see all that, but she knew Dr. Mortenson didn't care about that. She knew what he wanted, but it all seemed so pointless. What were they gaining out of this? Besides, whenever she did what he wanted, it didn't feel right. It made her feel bad; knowing things that weren't her business. Daddy had told her that she shouldn't eavesdrop on people and whenever she did what the doctor wanted, it felt like eavesdropping.
"I don't remember what to do."
Dr. Mortenson shook his head, giving her a slightly annoyed look and pressed his lips in a thin line. "I've already explained it to you; you know what you have to do," when she gave him a blank look, he took another pause before speaking again. "You must eliminate your physical self; focus only at object in front of you. Clear your mind; solely picture the target and connect your mind with theirs. No matter how much they resist; over power their will with yours. I know you can do it, Neena, you've done it before."
She kept her eyes closed, inhaling quickly before releasing it slowly. It took her months to be able to clear her mind before; and that's what most of the sessions were. For a long time, their sessions were just about clearing the mind.
She inhaled again, projecting herself farther out. It felt odd; it was never a feeling that she could really describe to someone. Even her daddy wouldn't understand; no one did. She couldn't even tell her best friend in the whole world about what happened during her sessions because she still didn't fully understand it herself.
The man, not much to her surprise, put up resistance. From the outside, he pressed his hand to his head as if he had a headache, but she could see through his eyes as she projected her mind out. She wasn't seeing thoughts per say, but she could see what lay heavy on his mind. She could see what he wanted; his desires and fears. All of it was there, laid out like an open book.
She pulled back out, the man falling to his knees and holding his head in pain. A few people came over to see what was going on and someone asked if he needed an ambulance. Dr. Mortenson smiled at her, clearly pleased. "You're getting better at it," he looked at the watch on his left wrist. "It only took a minute this time. Last time it took you a minute and a half."
"Is he going to be okay?" She looked back at the man, chewing on her lower lip in guilt. "He looks like he's in a lot of pain."
"He'll be fine; he's not important," Dr. Mortenson waved her concern off, standing up and picking up his briefcase. "Now come along, Neena. Your father will be here soon to pick you up."
He was the most perfect person in the world.
Always smiling, despite everything going on around him. With two little dimples at the corner of his upper lips. His eyes a bright green that lit up when he saw her. Not only her, but other people he cared about as well. But she always felt special when he smiled at her, though as if it were a smile reserved only for her and her alone.
Despite the things he had seen in his life, despite all the things going on that were troublesome, he never let it bother him. His optimism was like a ray of sun that broke through the thick and murky clouds of her mind. He stayed by her no matter how cranky and irritable she could get; even when she didn't have the energy to leave the house.
There was one day that she didn't go to school, cooped up in her room feeling like the entire world was collapsing around her. It was shortly after her step-mother's death and her daily psychiatrist visits had just begun. There were days she couldn't find the strength to get up, as if a giant weight had been placed on her shoulders and she couldn't move or do anything. Everything was too much; too much sadness and anxiety around her.
But Luke...he was always there for her, rain or shine. On that one day where she felt like there was no reason to continue on, he showed up at her door with two popsicles in hand. "You want one?" he had asked, offering it out to her with a smile. "It's not as good as ice cream, but it's still pretty tasty."
And just like that, she felt as if things could be okay. When he left to go home, she didn't feel as crappy as she had earlier. He had been willing to toss away his life for her when he had barely even knew her. It was a debt she would never be able to repay. He was the one person she could rely on; the bane of her seemingly meaningless existence. She loved her father, she truly did but he was so distant from her. Always escaping into his mind; a world she could not follow no matter how hard she tried.
In the end it was her fault. Just like how everything that happened to her was. She didn't know how else to explain it, but it seemed like there was some force out there that didn't want her to be happy. The world truly was a cruel place; she'd experienced it first hand but Luke...he still had an innocence she both envied yet wanted to protect.
His life was so normal compared to hers. His father was a optometrist at the local eye care clinic and his mother taught at the local elementary school in the second grade class. He had a younger brother named Sammy who was annoying, but since he was three it wasn't unexpected. It always felt odd whenever she was over. Not a bad odd, but it gave her the sense that she was shoe that didn't quite fit into their routine. Their family was happy and loving. Luke had parents who loved him and showed affection generously. They would play board games and his parents would take turns every night cooking, reading stories and taking the kids out on family trips and such.
It didn't feel right; or at least normal. Not for her, at least. She had never seen her father and step-mother show affection to one another or to her. Her father did sometimes, but then he retreated back into himself. The way Luke's family acted reminded her of what she would never and could never have with her own family. She didn't resent Luke for that; she could never, but that didn't mean she couldn't get jealous.
After the accident, that was it. Her father decided to move to a small town so they could start over and forget the painful memories of the past few years and of what had happened recently. She couldn't forget nor would she ever. She had accepted that the world was cruel and that happiness could only last for a fleeting moment before disappearing. It had always been that way; forever but she always chose to look the other way. After the incident with her stepmother, she couldn't ignore it. Somehow Luke could. Maybe his brain blocked it out or he just chose not to look at it, but he continued on with his naieve innocence.
After the accident, she didn't make any other friends. She couldn't allow other people to be wrapped up with someone like her. So she pushed people away in an effort to not only protect them, but also herself. She knew how to get by on her own; how to survive the merciless world. She couldn't allow herself to get too attached to anything. She could only care so much and that compassion had been decided when she was seven years old.
She understood almost better than anyone else that life was fleeting; something not to be taken lightly. She tried not to care too much, a method of protecting herself. She pushed others away with her words and temper, not wanting something bad to happen to anyone else. She didn't need; she didn't want another Luke.
She could never explain how, but what happened to him was her fault. Everything bad that happened to her was somehow her fault.
Einar sat by her bedside the rest of the day, watching as her face changed from peaceful bliss to clear agitation. Whatever was going on in that mind of hers, it wasn't pleasant. A part of him wanted to wake her up, but he had clear instructions from Prince Loki to not do that and he wasn't particularly wanting to see what could happen if he did.
"The wall that was suppressing certain memories is collapsing," the prince had explained in a thoughtful, yet warning tone. "If you were to awaken her, the results would be most unpleasant."
"How so?"
"The mind is a fragile thing," Prince Loki continued, Anastasia nodding silently in agreement as she leaned cross armed against the golden marble wall. "Randolph learned about warping the mind from some unknown teacher; someone powerful I would imagine. It is not a form magic I would care to learn, but I do know that interrupting her returning memories could damage her mind. Relax, when her memories have returned she will awaken."
That had been five hours ago and the girl had shown no sign of waking. He could remember the events that had happened only a few hours ago. His hand automatically tightened on the hilt of his sword attached to his belt. This shouldn't have happened. He should have been able to stop Randolph from touching her; for putting her through this. He was a soldier, a warrior for the All-Father and a representative from Vanaheim. He should have seen what the prisoner was planning. All of this could have been prevented if he had acted sooner.
Now he had failed her. Failed the All-Father and most importantly, failed himself. "I swore to myself I would never be helpless again," he admitted to himself, lips tightening at the thoughts running around in his head. "I worked too hard to get here; I shouldn't have allowed myself to get distracted."
He didn't understand how he wasn't able to stop the man. He shouldn't have allowed the shock to disable to him. If he had only acted sooner, than this girl wouldn't be in the position she was in right now.
Everytime he saw this girl, he didn't know what to think. She was so guarded, so defensive all the time. As if she were afraid that if she loosened up just once, then the entire universe would crash all around her. Not that he knew much about her at all; he didn't know much about Midgardians other than the fact that they tended to swear a little too much. He knew that she was in a great deal of pain right now considering she had just lost her father. From what it sounded like, and from the small bits that Ingrid told him, he was the only close family she had. It seemed like family was something important to her; something she cared about very deeply.
He was rather surprised that the prince of Asgard was worried about her. From what it sounded like, he had been pretty shaken by whatever she did. It was strange that a girl of such short stature could do something to rattle up even Loki, who was not easily startled. With how small she was, and really she looked like an infant compared to the rest of them, one could easily mistake her for being weak. He however could see right through that and knew that while physically she was not imposing in the slightest, but mentally she was sharp as the tip of a sword. Especially when she glared at him and everyone else with those blue eyes of hers. Very piercing, as though she were trying to pick out all his flaws and point them out.
Her blue eyes suddenly opened, returning to the real world in a lazy, slow fashion. She groaned, pressing a small hand to her face. The peaceful silence that had engulfed the room had disappeared, the girl muttering something that sounded like "Bastard man," and "That ass hole." When she finally realized he was in the room with her, he expected her to snap something rude at him but instead she gave a sigh. "What are you doing here?" she asked, exhausted for someone who had been sleeping all afternoon. She pushed back a strand of black hair that always hung in her face, and he did admit that she truly did look tired. "Don't you have work, or whatever it is you soldiers do?"
"I," he paused, not quite sure how to put it without being creepy. And he knew full well she would call him out on it if that's what she deemed it to be. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"That's it?"
"Yes."
She was unusually silent, hand still pressed to her face as if she had a headache. Aside from the birds chirping from outside and the distant echoes of the people below. A light breeze blew in, gently disturbing the loose strands of black hair lying against the side of his face. Her eyes had closed, like she was thinking hard about something before they opened once more. "Why?" she asked, her voice quiet and uncharacteristically shaky. "All I want is to just be by his side. That's all I've ever wanted and yet…"
He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, nor did he particularly like the completely devastated look on her face. How was he supposed to respond to this without making her even more upset? "I'm sorry, my lady," he offered quietly, noting how she paused and looked at him. "I'm not...entirely sure on who you're talking about, but I apologize for not acting sooner."
"Why are you sorry?" she asked, confusion in her tone. "You're the one who got him away from me, right? If anything, I should be thanking you."
"There is no need," he turned his face away out of shame, not being able to look her in the eye. "I should have acted sooner."
He would never say it outloud, but it was a relief when she rolled her eyes at him, erasing the tired and sad look from her face. "I don't know what you would have done. Well, other than stabbing him with that sword," she indicated the sword attached to its sheath hooked onto his armor. She then stretched her pale arms over her head, letting out a little yawn. "At least you could do something," she stressed that last part out earnestly. Her small hands folded in her long fingers interlacing with each other. "All I did was stand there like a dumb idiot."
"I do not think you were being a 'dumb idiot'," he replied to this, a bit perplexed as to why she was blaming herself. He'd witness the whole event; the shock of seeing the prisoner jump through the barrier had been evident on her face. There was nothing she could have done to prevent him from unblocking memories that perhaps she didn't want to remember. "Think for a moment; really think. What could you have done?"
She sighed at that, nodding her head slowly in agreement. Part of her shoulder length black hair moved across her face, her left hand automatically pushing it back to reveal her face once more. "I...guess you're right," she seemed too tired to give a snappy remark; too worn out. Her lips did twitch upwards in a rather sardonic manner. "I mean, the most I can do is twitch a rock. Real impressive, right?"
With her left hand, she fiddled with the necklace that lay gently on her collarbone. He'd never really paid any attention to it before, but he could not help but observe it now. The beads were of medium size; definitely Midgardian minerals. He could tell the green beads were of jade, and the deep blue ones of lapis lazuli. In between each bead was a silver bead. Each bead had a carving in it, each picture different and reminded him vaguely of the hieroglyphic pictures his mother would show him as a child as she told him the story of his people.
She noticed his gaze on her necklace and looked down at it, holding the necklace a little farther out so she could get a good look at it. "It was my dad's necklace," she spoke calmly, almost nostalgically as she studied the beads. "The symbols on the beads tells one of the stories of our tribe."
"Which story?"
He caught the little smile of pride that lifted the corners of her lips. Her eyes brightened at the mention of her family, fingers tracing the designs. "This necklace tells the story of White Painted Woman. She gave birth to two sons, Child Of Water and Killer Of Enemies, who were born on White Mountain during a violent rainstorm with thunder and lightning came from the sky. Monsters who feared White Painted Woman wanted to destroy her sons, but she raised them to be brave and skillful. They defeated the monsters when they grew up into men and saved the world for the humans that were living in fear of these monsters."
She let the necklace lay flat against her collarbone, yet her fingers still clutched it tightly. "It was my dad's favorite story," she spoke softly in an almost inaudible tone. "He said this necklace was given to him by his grandfather, who taught him how to make beads and how to carve on them. He told me that this necklace was my great-grandfather's best work."
It felt strange to have her share this intimate piece of herself with him. Not that he wasn't fascinated by it, rather he didn't think he'd be the one to hear it. She was so guarded; defensive to the point he couldn't tell too much about her besides the fact she was sarcastic and had a temper that rivaled even Prince Thor's. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit flattered by it, despite the fact he didn't deserve it.
"Sorry," she wiped her eyes and he snapped out of his thoughts, not realizing she'd been crying. "Didn't mean to bore you there."
"I was not bored," he spoke honestly, hoping she would see that. "When my mother was alive, she told me stories similar to yours."
"Really?" she seemed impressed by this. No, impressed wasn't the right word. She seemed interested in this shared piece of information they both held. Her face then fell, the tips of her ears turning pink as she flushed. "Oh, sorry. You told me about your parents, I believe."
"It was a long time ago," he brushed it off quickly, shaking his head. She already had enough to deal with; he didn't need to add his own problems to hers. "But yes, she told me similar stories."
"Like what?"
He opened his mouth to reply to that, but then ultimately closed it. He stood up from the chair next to her bed, posture straightening as he addressed her once more. "Another time, perhaps," he bowed to her, eyes leaving hers momentarily. "I must leave now, My Lady. I will come and see how you are doing later."
"Alright then," she seemed a bit disappointed by this for she gave a little sigh. "Go and do whatever the Pirate guy asks."
He couldn't help but smile at that. "I don't think he likes being called that, My Lady."
"Whatever you say, Einar."
