Elizabeth's Point of View

I woke up, with a jolt, and everything blurred. Frantically looking around, I saw that I was back in my room. My eyes finally adjusted to the light glow of my room as my eyes caught the electronic clock on my nightstand. It read: 3:24 am.

'Nice way to wake up, right?' The small voice in my head asked. I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

'Jostled out of bed because of a dream? Yes, it's a nice way to wake up,' I replied sarcastically.

Groaning softly, I knew that I won't be able to sleep at this hour, so I took a quick bath and changed into my camouflage shirt and black knee length shorts. I tied my hair, even though it was still wet, into a messy bun, and went out of my room into my floor's library after wearing my black woven socks.

'So comfy,' I thought, sighing inwardly as I let myself enjoy the soft texture of the socks.

'Wow, black fluffy socks being paired to a camouflage shirt and black shorts? Nice fashion sense!' My sarcastic mind said.

'Shut up you!'

I entered the library that took at least half of my floor space. My library was colored white, with black linings and grey accents to have a modern style to it. It had shelves all over the room and there were four black one-person couches on the middle of the room with two black four-person couches on the middle of the north and south side of the room.

'Must you be so elaborate in everything you see'? My mind said again. I groaned in annoyance.

'You don't care! Sometimes, I think I think I'm bonkers because of you, yah know?'

'You have no idea.'

I roamed the library and started to look for a book I can read.

'Why did I want my library to be so big? I can't even find the middle of the room.'

'It's because you like books. You're a book licker, remember?'

My feet were getting tired already. While looking around, my mind started to wander to the dream I had earlier. Loki. His name started to ring a bell in my head and his emerald eyes was what my mind saw.

A few moments later of looking for a book I haven't read and thinking about Loki and the dream, my mind started to go blank, and then a thought came. 'Loki... that name sounds quite familiar.' I ended up in the mythology section, and saw the four inch thick book about Greek myths and a two inch thick book about Roman Mythology. Then, my eyes caught a glimpse of the one inch thick book about Norse gods and another book about the tales of Norse Gods.

'Again with the elaboration!' My mind reminded. I ignored my ever sarcastic mind and carried on. Considering I haven't read these books yet, I took it out of its shelf and went to middle of the room to sit down on one of the four-seat couch. I placed the books on the table and took the first book which was about the Norse gods. I flipped up to the first page and read about the author, then to the next until I reached the history of Norse myth.

The body of Norse mythology is a mythology from the North Germanic people that stems from Norse paganism and continuing after the Christianization of Scandinavia into the Scandinavian folklore of the modern period.

I started to read on, from the extension of Norse myth to its traditions and the various beings and royals (deities and such) before and after the pagan period. After the history of Norse mythology that consisted of five or so back-to-back pages, the next page read, in texts all bold: 'GODS, DEITIES, and BEINGS'

Flipping to the next page, the first word I read was Odin. It is stated that Odin is a one-eyed, raven-flanked god, who wields a scepter called 'Gungnir', and is the wisest and strongest of them all. Odin is the son of Bor, the Son of Buri the First Aesir, and Bestla, the daughter of Bolthorn. He has two brothers, Vili and Ve, and he is also married to Frigg or Frigga, one of the most powerful seidr workers. She was stronger than Freya, the feather cloaked goddess. Odin has craftily pursued knowledge throughout worlds and bestowed among humanity the runic alphabet. He also has two ravens, Hugin and Munin.

Next was Frigg's/Frigga's descriptions followed by Freya the feathered cloaked goddess who rides to choose among the slain; Skadi, the vengeful skiing goddess who prefers the wolf howls of the winter mountains to the seashore; Njördr, the powerful god who can control both sea and fire, and grant wealth and land; Idunn, the goddess who keeps apple's that grant eternal youthfulness; Heimdall or Heimdallr, the mysterious god who is born of nine mothers and can hear grass grow and has golden eyes that possess a resounding horn; Freyr, the god whose weather and farming associations bring peace and pleasure to humanity; and then Thor, the hammer-wielding, humanity-protecting god who relentlessly fight foes.

Each god had at least covered up less than five pages. I was so engrossed in the book that I knew I had lost track of time. My eyes were getting blurry and I took a pause reading to let my poor eyes rest.

Rubbing them, I jumped in surprise when JARVIS called out, "Miss, Mr. Stark requests your presence at the kitchen for breakfast." My eyes were wide open when I heard the word breakfast.

"What time is it?!" I ask a bit frantic.

"It is 6:36 in the morning, Miss."

"I've been here for at least three hours?" I ask in disbelief. 'The book wasn't that long, was it?'

"Yes Miss, and your father said, and I quote, 'Elizabeth, get your ass here right now for breakfast.' I suggest you move on quick, Miss," JARVIS advises. I folded the last page that I read and teleported my way to the kitchen. Mom gave a loud squeal of surprise when she saw me appear right next to dad, while dad gave a loud 'Yah!' that made me crack up. He rolled his eyes while opening the oven and I smelled something delicious? Dad took out the tray that revealed white vanilla cookies with chocolate chips. I sniffed the smell and my mouth watered at the aroma instantly.

"Mom did you make that?" I ask looking at mom.

"Nope, in fact, your father did the baking while I was asleep and you weren't here yet," she pointed out. My mouth hung open while I looked at dad and laughed a bit.

"Oh my God! Tony Stark can bake without burning the food and the house!" I practically screamed while laughing hysterically.

"Ha Ha, just because I burned the kitchen the last time I cooked doesn't mean I can't bake," he said rolling his eyes again.

"You can't even cook an omelet," I pointed out.

"That was one time, okay?" He gave me a look with a distressed voice. This makes me laugh again.

"How 'bout the last time you attempted to cook bacon but burned the whole thing and triggered the alarm because of the smoke? Or the last uncountable times you cooked and either burned the food or kitchen and ended up with me cook for you?" I ask smirking.

"Whatever," dad said rolling his eyes again.

"Don't roll your eyes too much, they might fall off," I said snickering to stop myself from laughing.
"Har har."

I sat down while mom took the milk, theirs warm while mine cold, and poured it in tall glasses. After dad placed three trays of cookies in a jar, he placed the remaining two trays of cookies in a plate and placed it on the coffee table. The three of us started to dig in and oh god... I chewed on the soft fluffy cookie while tasting the vanilla and chocolate's sweet taste that lingered in my mouth.

"God that was good. Did you really make this Tony?" Mom asked while dipping her cookie in the milk while I copied what she did and groaned louder because it tasted ten times more delicious.

"Yep," dad said proudly.

"It's actually a family recipe, when I was young my mom and I baked cookies a lot and she'd often do the baking while I did taste testing," dad paused and chuckled while mom giggled and I snorted.

Attractive I know.

"She never gave the recipe to me, because she, umm, died with dad in the car accident. But, a few days after the accident I slept in their room and went through her stuff and found the recipe. This is actually my fifth attempt in doing the recipe. I'm surprised I did it right this time," he said smiling but his eyes, they held pain. I looked at dad and I knew, he was reminiscing. He was remembering my grandparents, Maria and Howard Stark. I never met my grandparents because they died years before I was born, but I saw them on a family portrait, where grandfather and grandmother -with dad in the middle- all stood together smiling, even though grandpa Howard's smile was so very little.

Dad always said that grandpa didn't quite appreciate him, whilst grandmother was the opposite. Grandma always supported dad with everything he wanted to do, while grandfather turned all of dad's bright ideas into ashes, never to be brought to life again. But when I look at that painting, I look into the eyes of my grandfather, and feel like I knew, he was proud. He was proud of my father. At some point, I thought, 'What if, grandfather pointed out all the flaws, so that dad can perfect all his ideas?' But it doesn't matter what I think. What matters, is what dad thinks. I can only tell him what I think but it's always up to him on what he chooses to believe.

Besides, it wasn't just about my grandpa correcting him all the time. It was also because of Steve Rogers. Steve Rogers and Howard were friends from way back. According to dad, "According to your grandfather, the Star Spangled Man with a Plan was supposed to be my 'model'. Told me to try and live up to a legacy. Live with honor, do good to the nation, and blah blah, the whole shebang. God I hate that guy. Every living moment in my early years with dad was filled with nothing but comparison and sadly, indifference. Ugh." And from that moment on, I completely understood at least a part of why my father was, well, like himself. Dad was so intricate. He is an intricate person whose defense and offense mechanism was influenced by the people around him, most specifically his father. All those rejections, the heartache, and the redundancy of having to be compared to someone are so depleting. It can destroy your esteem to multiple heights and make you build a new persona and just crave for change. And somehow, that became the birth of Tony Stark. But then I came along. It was what Pepper always told me: "You changed him. You gave him hope and you became his light, E. You became our light." A part of me had wanted to not believe her, because I was scared of the responsibility that would and was placed on my shoulders. I was scared that I won't be enough to be able to keep my dad grounded. And somehow, as we went along as I grew up, it happened on multiple occasions. But then I would remember why dad was my dad, why he is my absolute everything. I would remember why I love my dad, and why I would spend every breath loving, always trying, and living for my dad.

When I was five or six, the day I discovered my powers, I was so panicked, worried and I told dad I was scared. Dad confessed something to me that instantly wiped away my fear. I remember every word he said as if it was yesterday.

"You know, when I was young, my father, your grandfather, he always looked at me. The look he gave was that disappointed and 'comparing me to Captain Ass America' like he's saying, 'Anthony, that's not good enough, you're a Stark, do more' or 'why can't you be like Steve Rogers?' It was that kind of look, although I think at some point he said it," Dad explains while hugging me close. I leaned on his shoulder while looking up to meet his vibrant brown eyes.

"And I can never tell him I was scared or that I was nervous. God I didn't even had the guts to tell your gramps I was happy at something without him spoiling the fun. Where I'm coming from, is that I don't want to be my dad," his sentence came out a bit of like a high pitched sentence. "I don't want to be as calculating as him. I just- I want to be a father you deserve," he continues while rubbing circles on my arms. I sniffle a bit, feeling better at his words.

"I want to make you happy all the time and all that sappy stuff. And this is a trying time. I know that, baby," he says with the most sincere look in his eyes, and I tear up at the thought of what happened a few hours earlier. "But I want to tell you that you can tell me anything without having to freak out about my reaction, okay? You don't have to be afraid today or tomorrow because I'm always going to be here for you, okay?" He nods his head at me to make sure that I understand, and I nod, clasping my hand in his.

"I promise that I'll always protect you and keep you safe. But if I break my promise, which I know I will because I'm a very impulsive person and we all know that because you are a bit impulsive too because you're my child-" I cut him off.

"Hey!" I exclaim in a weak voice. He chuckles a bit and squeezes my hand as if to tell me it's a joke, but somehow we both know that it's not.

"If I break my promise, I want you to remember that I'm also promising you that I will do anything in my power to fix that broken promise. I love you, baby," my lips trembled at my dad's sincere and kind words, as I felt tears well up in my eyes. Sniffling, I wrap my arms around my dad's waist and breathe in his scent. He curls up with me and squeezes my tiny form in a hug. After a few minutes of that hug, I looked at dad to see his eyes shining with unshed tears. His eyes were filled with a sense of warmth and comfort... and love. He kisses my forehead and looks me in the eyes.

"You are the love of my life. Everything that I have and everything I am? It's yours... forever." And that was the first time my dad ever said that he loves me.

That day was one of the most tender moment that I have ever had in my life. He was so exposed and so vulnerable that I couldn't help but shed tears with every word that left his lips. God, now I feel like crying.

There were multiple times that he broke his promise, but never has he broken his second promise of making it right. With every fight, we always made up. In every trying time in our lives, we had intense moments where we absolutely loathed each other and ourselves, but somehow, in the end of those trying times, I'd still find myself hugging my dad and saying 'I love you.'

I wanted to know what was in his head, but even if I can, I didn't. It was my father's personal thought, and I respected that. Dad was never one to be so open to many. He'll tell us eventually but sometimes he keeps all of this emotions bottled up. And mom and I don't really like that.

We ate quietly until mom left. Dad and I placed the leftover cookies in the cookie jar that we found alongside a pitcher of iced milk with two glasses up to the lab and ate it while making the arc reactor. There was a comfortable silence, sometimes broken when we asked each other for something such as a tool or cookie.

"How come you weren't in the kitchen this morning? Usually you'd be the first one to arrive and cook breakfast," dad asks during our break. I shifted in my seat.

'Don't shift in your seat, he'll notice', my mind said, making me confused.

"I actually woke up 3:25 or so in the morning, I couldn't sleep so I showered and went to my library to read. I kind of lost track of time," I answered. Okay, it's not the complete truth but it is also true. Dad looked at me sternly.

"Elizabeth, tell me the whole truth, nothing but the truth, because I know when you lie or tell the partial truth, you shift in your seat," he said and I groaned.

'I told you!' My mind said in a sing-song voice.

"Okay fine, I dreamt about something weird, and it's been stuck in my mind for a while, it woke me up so I showered and went to the library and you know the rest," I said bluntly. I looked at dad to see him raising a brow at me and I raised a brow back.

"Really?" Dad asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Really," I said in agreement.

We had a staring contest for at least one or two minutes. Then, dad shrugged.

"Okay, I'm satisfied," he said. Dad shoved a cookie in his mouth while I finished off my milk.

"C'mon let's continue doing the arc," he said standing up and I did the same. We started to bring out more needed materials and necessities.

"JARVIS, look alive. We've only got at least two months' time to finish the arc. And, we're not even halfway done yet. Pull up Draft Three-B," I said while looking at the screen.

"Dad, do you still have the copper casing I told you to throw out? I'm going to need it," I said.

"Yeah," he said handing it to me. I took it and placed it aside next to the titanium case. Taking the magnet and copper wires, I started to weld and attach it to the base plate of the arc.

We continued to finish the arc, and when nightfall came, we ate the rest of the cookies for lunch and dinner, emptying the cookie jar. Mom took a last minute flight to London for a business meeting leaving me and dad alone in the tower.

Dad and I slept earlier than expected which was 12:58 am (that's still early to us). I showered and lay on my bed, but I still wasn't sleepy.

Sighing, I walked up to the library and looked at the table and saw the book I wasn't able to finish. Sitting down on the couch, I took the book about Norse gods and flipped it to the last page, which was all about the thunder god Thor. Straightening the last page, I flipped it to the next page and my eyes went side when I saw Loki's name on it.

I've been so busy today, I completely forgot about Loki and the dream. In a flash, his pale complexion that contrasted his emerald alluring eyes swarmed my mind: his high cheekbones, his thin pink lips (which quite frankly I'm very jealous of), his tall, lean, and muscular built, and his raven locks of hair. That man is the epitome of utter perfection. His voice with that almost distinct British accent that can make any girl swoon. The way the glow of the moonlight illuminated his gem-like orbs. The way he spoke words, like he recited it over in his head that made every word roll down his tongue out of his mouth perfectly like a poetry. His movements full of grace and firmness. What was the most humbling about him was the child-like glint in his eyes and his stunned face when I showed him the rose I had made out of water.

'Someone has a crush! His alluring emerald eyes, his thin pink lips. The epitome of utter perfection! His movements full of grace! You totally have a crush!' It was times like this that I felt like I was actually crazy. I don't know if I have split personalities or what but my mind is crazy. I'm sane and insane at the same time, oh my God.

I opened my eyes when my mind brought me to wake up from my thoughts. 'I don't have a crush!' I scold myself.

'Keep telling yourself that,' my mind vividly answers.

'Just because I state someone's defining physical and personal qualities do not mean I like them,' I try to reason with myself.

'Not if it's focused on one person.'

'I hate this,' I groan out loud. "Do I have a crush?" But I just heave a sigh.

I hate how creepy I sound. I'm talking to myself and I'm talking about someone from a dream. It is official; living with Iron Man has riddled me crazy. God, to think I have to add my powers to the mix sounds crazier. Oh God, this is what sleep deprivation leads to.

I shook my head quietly laughing at myself for thinking of such.

'I'm still standing, aren't I? And I still make understandable statements so maybe I'm not that crazy?' Even encouraging myself makes me feel crazy. Laughing, I shake my head for thinking of such stupid stuff.

'It's not just thinking of such. It's called compliments and self-insults, darling.'

'Whatever, shut up, I'm trying to read. I still blame you, by the way, stupid mind,' I groan and slam the book lightly on my head.

Focusing back on my book, I started to read about Loki, the god of Mischief and Lies.

'Man, I've got one hell of a mind,' I just sigh.