Mirabella Odinsdottir

25-Full tilt diva

A/N-Oh my god I'm so sorry! I published 2 chapters a couple days ago but for some reason it wasn't working? If anyone knows why I'd appreciate if u could help me out so it won't happen again, really am so sorry so I've made this chapter longer as another little bonus because I really do feel bad.

~~E

I sat on the edge of the walkway where the glass cage used to be with my legs dangling over the edge.

Waking up was fun, had my head bashed in so that I could hardly remember a thing when I woke up, yet somehow the intense throbbing that had situated itself in my head quite nicely wasn't the worst part. The man who saved my ass wasn't even there when I woke up because he was dead. Me and Thor swore to protect midgaurd yet here the people are being slaughtered willingly so that we can live.

Well now I suppose it's more of a, so I can live, situation since Loki most likely killed Thor. Not to mention he got away too. So here I am, sitting on a piece of metal in a floating castle somewhere above somewhere on Midgard with not a single brother in sight.

Not even Banner was here since he fell out of the sky too, and to my knowledge I'm pretty sure the people of Earth don't survive that sort of thing.

Just like the day I was sitting in Odin's vault I simply let the tears cascade down my face. Not a clue where I was, I hardly knew a thing about the remaining people on this ship and I was absolutely useless now. No need for any scientific investigations now so I was just a bloody nobody filling up space.

That was the feeling I hated. It reminded me of home, of Father. He had bred that into me from an early age. I was to be seen, not heard, something pretty for the Royals to show off, nothing more. What would happen when I went home now? If I went back to Father telling him I had let his favourite child die, I would probably be killed on the spot. In a rage I pulled at my plait untangling the three sections of hair from one another and threw the bobble that had tied them loosely together across the room and shouted, nothing in particular it was just noise.

It did nothing for the anger, for the guilt, for the sadness, nothing. My hands flew up to my head grabbing and pulling at a clump of hair, one on each side for each hand.

My hands clung onto my hair so tight that they began to shake after a while. I let go of my hair and it fell obediently back down to my shoulders. Footsteps came up behind me, the person didn't say anything, didn't do anything at all so I let myself imagine it was Loki.

I closed my eyes and visualised the Asgardian palace gardens, I let myself imagine that I was sitting on the grass with Loki behind me trying to be smart and clever, ready to surprise me.

I wanted nothing more than that. Nothing more to be sitting there yet again with ink all over my hideous golden dress.

The thoughts and the emotions were too much all of a sudden and I couldn't help the sob that escaped from my lips.

Weak

That was the only word that clutched onto my mind. But the person behind me didn't seem to care, they didn't scoff, they didn't taunt, they simply rested a hand on my shoulder.

It was a small gesture, but one that I had never received. On the few occasions I had let myself be seen like this it was always in front of Loki and never anyone else. On those occasions, each time without fail, I would be pulled into his side in his attempts to comfort me, which of corse always worked.

But this, this gesture wasn't out of love or pity, this was a gesture of understanding.

The tears seemed to rain down my cheeks harder now, silent now but more frequent.