all :D 

So here you are, another chapter. I keep writing and posting, which is actually problematic, because once I finish Ei Diafol, I'm going to have quite a gap between that and the fourth book. Ooooppss.... 

This is a bit of a long chapter. Some of it is extraneous, but some of it is important, if you know what to look for. 

Anyway, hope you like it : )

~Sierra

Music: Glass- Thompson Square; The Clave's Curse- City of Bones/Mortal Instruments

Edit: me 

Chapter Forty-Five

"Once upon a time a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-- while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as if some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door-- 'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-- only this and nothing more.'"

~Thea's POV~

"Thea, come back! I am not going to chase you around the glen, do you understand?"

These words come from a very annoyed Loki as I make off with his scepter, running down the path towards the lake, from the house. I laugh gleefully as I leap up one of the tall rocks, scaling it like a goat and crouching on the top of it. About ten feet below me, I see Loki stalking towards me, not looking very pleased.

"THEA, get DOWN here! I am not in the mood right now."

"Catch me if you can!" I laugh.

Two seconds later, Loki has me by the arm, has dragged me off the rock, and has grabbed the scepter from my hand, "There," he says, lightly bonking the scepter on my shoulder, "Now stop being a nuisance."

"I like being a nuisance," I say as we walk back towards the shack. "It's funny to see you get mad and then get un-mad because I am irresistibly adorable." I make my hands form a V along my chin, like Leah does when she's trying to prove that she's innocent.

Loki's voice is stern, but I swear that I can see a slight smile threatening to emerge, "Go back inside. I believe it's about to rain."

I glance up at the sky, which looks dark and overcast, "This is what Kyle calls stirring weather. It might rain, it might not." There's a pause, "Why do you look so upset when I say Kyle's name, Loki?"

His eyes swivel over to me and he says sharply, "You're imagining things. Look at me, Thea."

Before I glance around, he takes my chin in his fingers and lifts it up. I try to pull away from him, but his fingers are tight around my face. Closing his green eyes, he says something in a language I cannot quite interpret. All that I know is that all thoughts of my previous question are shifting away in a fog.

Frowning, Loki looks down at me. Then, he lets go of my face, saying, "Come along. I have no desire to be rained upon."

"Okay," I say compliantly.

*

As it turns out, it does rain. This causes the shack to become cozy as the thunder rolls across our rocky enclosure, and after I eat a sandwich from my backpack, I run outside to get splashed with rainwater, which Loki apparently and surprisingly doesn't seem to mind. The water tastes wonderful on my tongue and for a little bit, I just stand out there, head tilted back and my mouth open to let the water run down me, free, cool, and wild.

*

I climb into the small, warm cot beside the tiny stove-like apparatus in the corner. The rain is still thundering on the roof, making a sweet melody. I take out my journal, the one Thor had given me six months ago, the one I had converted into an actual diary instead of a working telecommunication to Asgard (because it actually hadn't really worked).

There are scattered drawings across the pages, of birds, plants, hilltops, cityscapes, and sunsets that I've doodled over the past day. The pages are rough, which makes my pencil strokes soft but dark and I begin to sketch in the corner of a page.

Thunder rumbles softly and lightning flashes in the distance as Loki walks inside, closing the door from the torrent behind him. He's sopping wet. Shaking his boots, which are full of rainwater, he walks into his room, off this one, without even glancing at me.

I concentrate on my drawing, and scarcely notice when he re-enters this room, wearing a large white shirt and threadbare pants. He looks over to the table, where I've placed my emerald dagger and stiletto sleeve, plus his own long knives and swords. As he walks over towards them, he passes me and his eyes dart over my page, "What are you drawing?"

"I don't know," I say, smoothing one of the curves, "An hourglass, I guess."

Loki's jaw is tense, "Draw something else, Thea."

I glance up at him curiously, surprised at his odd request, "Why?"

"Because I said so," says Loki, grabbing one of his knives. Leaning against a wall, he begins to sharpen it, still looking at me with piercing eyes.

"That's not much of a reason," I point out, using my finger to smudge the "glass" in my drawing, "I can draw what I wan- hey!"

Loki has put down the knife and reached across, taking the journal from my hands. He sits down next to me on the tiny cot, glances over my work, then turns the page.

"What are you doing?" I demand.

"Drawing," he says complacently. With expert strokes of the pencil, he begins to form some sort of intricate shape.

Minutes later, I tilt my head, "Is it a tiger?"

"Mhm," he says, finishing the immaculate drawing with a flourish. As I lean my head against his shoulder and yawn, he taps my nose, "Go to sleep, kitten. You're exhausted."

"No I'm..." I yawn again, "Not."

He chuckles, then shifts suddenly so that my head lands on his lap, "Sleep, little one. It's been a long day."

Even though I feel content and safe as Loki twirls some of my hair around his fingers, I am also curious as to why he is being so kind to me, but enraged at the rest of the world.

*

~Nobody's POV~

The firelight flickers across the walls, tossing shadows around the tiny room. Thea's shoulders begin to rise and fall slower and slower: soon enough, she is asleep, her mouth open slightly, her arm limp over the cot.

Still looking down at her, Loki moves cautiously so as not to wake her and moves so that her head now rests on the woolen pillow. Moving some hair from her lips, he covers her with some of the furs, tucking them around her small body. He sits down at the edge of the bed and sighs, looking over at the peaceful Thea.

Very, very slowly so as not to disturb her slumber, Loki lifts up her left sleeve. Visible is a short, deep cut that has only recently stopped bleeding. He had told her that it is because of the sharp stones.

She believed him. Without a question.

*

The morning sunlight is creeping into the shuttered shack, and Thea opens one eye. The fire has died out, so that only ash and a faint smell of smoke.

Thea yawns, then sits up, stretching like a cat. Then, her eyes land on the long sword leaning against the table. Grinning, she climbs off the cot, her bare feet hitting the grainy, rough wood flooring.

Pattering across the floor, she peeks into the still-dark bedroom that Loki is currently inhabiting. He is sprawled out horizontally, his hand hanging off the opposite side of the bed, the covers haphazard across his body, and his hair tangled and mussed in a black mass.

Thea, grinning mischievously, backs up to the edge of the doorway and then, with a running start, jumps onto the bed, landing right on Loki.

He groans irritably, trying to grab her, but is too sleepy to get a grip.

"...Thea!"

She giggles, yanking the pillow out from under him and throwing it on his head. He stops fighting her and just moans, his tired voice muffled from the pillow smothering him, "Thea..."

"Get up!" She exclaims, shaking his shoulders, "You said you'd help me practice with the sword today."

Loki grunts, then says tiredly, "Not this...early."

"Get up!"

He swats at her in a blind attempt and misses, "Thea...go...I'm still sleeping."

"Looooooki!" she whines, still shaking his shoulders aggressively, "I'm bored."

Loki groans, then mutters, "If you would get off of my head, I could actually get up."

Thea moves the pillow off of Loki, and he immediately turns around, lying with his back to her and also practically smothering her with the weight of his legs and one of his arms.

"Loki, get off me!"

He chuckles, his eyes still closed. It takes Thea several seconds to free herself from him, and she glares down at him, "Loki!"

"...What?"

"Please get up!"

He pauses, then says, still sounding incredibly exhausted, "Go...eat something. I'll get up soon." She looks down at him doubtfully, and Loki opens one tired eye, "I promise, Thea, now please go."

Thea makes a face at him, "Fine." Slamming the pillow at him one more time, she climbs off of the bed- he tries to swat her arm, but misses.

Loki watches her leave, then smacks his head on the mattress, knowing full well that there's no point in going back to sleep.

*

~Thea's POV~

Loki quickly asserts that he will not be going easy on me. He does fix the problem of the sword being too big for me: he produces a needle-like steel sword with golden loops around the handle. "And don't you dare break it or do anything whatsoever to damage it," he adds as I admire the shiny quality of the blade, "Or else."

"Or else what?" I ask curiously.

He gives me such a stern look that I decide it's not worth it to repeat the question.

This sword is nearly half of the weight of the one I had trained with on Asgard with Thor- according to Loki, that's the only training I've ever had with the sword- and only slightly longer than my arm. This means that it's not quite as heavy as Loki's, but more flexible and not as clumsy.

"It looks like it has stars or glitter in it," I say, admiringly looking at my new weapon, "Like fairy dust."

"There aren't any stars in it," Loki snaps.

"Well fine then, don't get snippy with me," I say, putting my hands on my hips.

Loki teaches me where to place my feet first, "Because your feet are your balance. If you don't know where to put them, then you have nothing." He tells me to imagine that I'm on a plus sign, only able to move straight up and down and side to side, without any awkward leg motions. This is actually harder than it looks, because when a heavy sword is slicing towards me, I want to duck right and attempt to block, not set my feet horizontally and block that way.

After I get this basic technique, I learn about form. This, I find both tricky and easy simultaneously. With my experience with my emerald dagger, I know how to yield a weapon to my advantage, know how to find the ins and outs of my opponents.

But the sword, although it is of the shorter variety, also is longer and heavier than my dagger, and it takes practice to learn how to swing it up, as it takes up more time to do so.

Then, Loki starts moving me around, and that's when the real pressure begins. I learn that unlike dagger fighting, where the combat is usually refined to the immediate vicinity around the opponents, swordplay can take place anywhere the opponent wants to move you around. The very second time, Loki's sword slams my own back, forcing me to retreat up a slight embankment. I have to jump up on the small hill and battle him from above to save my head from being removed.

All in all though, sword fighting isn't terrible. I doubt that I'll ever be as good at it as I am with my dagger, but it's an acquired skill.

Nearly three hours later, Loki finally stops the sword play. "Thank goodness," I rasp, drinking some creek water from my water canister, "I'm exhausted."

"How unfortunate, because we're not done," says Loki, who scarcely looks winded.

"What?" I squeak.

"Don't 'what' me. Take out your dagger."

"It's inside!"
"Then go run inside and get it! And hurry!"

Loki's tone implies that there will be no arguing. I huff, but grab my dagger from the table. Alongside my emerald dagger is one of Loki's long knives and my stiletto sleeve. I glance over the weapons casually, looking over them one by-

"THEA!"

"I'M COMING!" I holler.

"And stop pouting," Loki says as I emerge from the shack with a grimace.

"No."

I twirl my dagger in my hand, trying to look as forlorn and miserable as possible, dragging my feet on the ground and (fake) coughing.

"Thea, stop attempting to appeal to my humanity. You should know by now that it won't work."

"But you're a softie," I say mischievously, wrapping my arms around one of his. When he looks down at me, annoyed, I giggle, "Especially when it comes to me."

He snorts, "Let go of me, Thea. You're being a parasite."

"Do we have to do any more fighting?" I ask in my most Leah-like voice, still looking up at him in what I hope is an adorable, adoring voice. Privately, I want to gag at how much I'm stooping.

His response is to pry my fingers off of his arm, push me away, and to take out his other long knife.

I groan.

The only reason the dagger duel goes reasonably well is because I feel my eyes dilate and successfully go into my "crazy mode" (vocabulary courtesy of Jack). I am able to push Loki back, nearly slicing off his hand in the process- I manage to give him a small cut-and keep him like that for a very long time. Eventually though,, he succeeds in grabbing one of my arms, yanking it back (painfully) and putting his knife under my throat, stalemating me and forcing me to drop my dagger.

"But..." I pant, "You have to...admit...that I'm getting better..."

He rolls his eyes, fastening his knife back in his belt, "If improving over how you used to be an immature, clumsy little girl, then yes, you have improved, but not much." He pauses for a moment of staged reflection, "Actually, you are still an immature, clumsy little girl."

I glare at him, which he seems to enjoy. Smirking, he adds, "Get up. I'm going hunting and I want to make sure you're inside."

"Can't I just stay by the edge of the lake?" I ask as we walk back towards the shack, me dragging my feet in exhaustion.

"Absolutely not," says Loki firmly, "And if you step one foot outside that structure while I am gone, then I will personally ensure that your training sessions are as tortuous as possible. And twice as long."

"How will you know if I step one foot out?" I ask, "If you're hunting?"

He squints at me as he grabs his other knife from the table, "Oh don't you worry, kitten. I'll know."

I poke him, "You're a bully."

"Well yes," he says, "Perhaps I just like being-" he stops short, then quickly adds, "Stay in the shack, Thea."

With that, he walks out of the door, shutting it tightly behind him. Sighing, I slump down on my cot, looking up at the ceiling in boredom. I wish I had a cell phone- according to Loki, Max took it from me before we left for Canada. Apparently, we're in Canada now.

*

That night, as yet another rainstorm pounds the little shack, I take out The Hobbit from my rucksack and begin reading. But as the storm gets louder and louder, chills begin to creep over my skin. Why? I'm not usually afraid of thunderstorms, right? There was just one last night.

Apparently not, because the next lightning bolt sends me scampering into Loki's room. Climbing up onto the bed, upon which he is doing something magically with a bit of wood, I take out my book again. He merely glances at me, then says as he waves his hand over the wood, causing it to burst into flames, "Does the storm frighten you?"

I snort, "Don't be ridiculous. I just got bored and wanted to watch you do your voodoo mag-EEP!"
A particularly loud thunderclap literally shakes the shack, and I bury my face in the blankets.

I hear Loki chuckle, which makes me annoyed, "Shut up," I say in a muffled voice, my head covered in the blanket.

"I didn't say anything, Thea."

The blanket is getting stuffy, and doesn't exactly block out the lightning, so I surface, my hair static-y from the covers. Blowing my hair from my face, I retrieve The Hobbit and turn to one of my favorite chapters, "Riddles in the Dark."

I had first read J.R.R.Tolkien's works when I was ten, from the persuasion of my brother. When I get back to New York and to my family's apartment, I'll have to remember to return this copy to him, or he'll probably steal all of my copies of Percy Jackson. He did that to me last week.

Of all the books, The Hobbit is my favorite, mostly because it's such a dramatic precursor to Lord of the Rings. As I flip through the pages, I yawn, then say, "Loki, are you good at riddles?"

He raises his eyebrows from where he's been leaning against the headboard with his eyes closed, "Try me."

"Ooookay," I say, turning a page, "'What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than the trees, up, up it goes, and yet never grows?'"

Loki closes his eyes again, drumming his fingers on the sword at his side. Two seconds later, in a very smug voice, he says, "A mountain."

I purse my lips in annoyance, "That was the easiest one."

He glances at my book, "Is it a book of riddles?"

I'm insulted, "No. It's The Hobbit. Gollum and Bilbo are having a riddle war. If Bilbo wins, the Gollum has to show him the way out of the caves. If Gollum wins, Bilbo becomes his lunch."

"I assume that Gollum does not win."

"You're brilliant," I say sarcastically, then scan down the page some more, "'Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.'"

He answers in two seconds, "The wind."

"Seriously?!" I exclaim.

Loki laughs, "Give me the book." Taking it from my hands, he turns the page and then reads out loud, "'It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies beyond stars and under hills. And empty holes it fills. It comes out first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter."'

"Dark," I say promptly.

He tosses the book back to be in boredom, "You must have already ready this book before."

"I have," I say, slightly hurt, "But that doesn't mean anything."

"Of course it does," Loki says, "Because if you hadn't read it before, you never would have guessed it." When I begin to protest, he holds up his hands, "Wait." He pauses, thinking, then says, "Some use me, while others do not. Some remember while others have forgot. For profit and gain, I'm used expertly. I can't be picked off the ground or tossed in the sea. Only gained through patience and time, can you unravel my rhyme?"

"Did you just make that up?" I demand.

"Yes."

"No you didn't."

"Are you accusing me of being intelligent?"

"I'm accusing you of being a liar."

"Stop stalling. Give me an answer or give up."

"Fine!" I throw my head back on the mattress, closing my eyes in concentration. "What was the last line?"

"You should have been listening the first time."

"Loki!"

In a falsely patient voice, he repeats, "Only gained through patience and time, can you unravel my rhyme?"

I punch the pillow in frustration.
"Do you surrender?" he taunts.

"No, no, no no," I say desperately, then mutter, "Can't touch it. Some people use it. Is gained...patience and time..."

"This is so easy, Thea."

"You're not helping!"

I can't see him, as my eyes are still closed, but I can hear his complacent tone, "I'm not trying too. You have ten seconds before I lose my patience completely and tell you the answer."

"NO, don't tell me, don't tell me!"

"...Eight...seven..."

"LOKI!"

"Five...four..."

"Ugh, ugh, ugh, um, time, patience, using, patience..."

"Three.......Two......"

"Learning! It's learning!" I say breathlessly.

He raises an eyebrow, "The answer is knowledge, but I suppose that's adequate enough."

I breath out a sigh of relief, "Okay. Good. My turn." I grab The Hobbit. "'Alive without breath, as cold as death; never thirsty, ever drinking, all in mail never clinking.'"

Loki frowns slightly, continuing to drum his hand on the sword.

"Are you going to give up?" I ask gleefully.

He gives me an annoyed look, "It's been three seconds, Thea."

"Five, six," I say, grinning, "Seven, ei-"

"It's a fish."

My shoulders fall, "Oh."

"You look disappointed."

"I am a little."

"So sorry. My turn and then you're going to go to sleep."

"I don't want to hear another one."

"In that case, I win the game. And seeing as you would probably label me as Gollum, does this mean I can eat you?" He grabs me as I shriek, and tickles my sides.

"Shut up, you're being annoying!" I exclaim as I break free, "Fine, give me a riddle!"

"Very well." Loki peers down at me as I lie down at the foot of the bed, fingering the book.

"It's a letter but a word,

She will never know for sure,

That dark will seep

And forever keep

Though light shines through

It's through cracks of few

The answer'll appear

Once you've thought of the

Thing you holds most dear."

I squint, "...What?"

"I'm not repeating it," says Loki as the thunder rumbles from far away, "Get some sleep. The storm isn't close anymore."

Eventually, I succumb not to Loki's words, but to the exhaustion trickling across my body. But Loki's riddle keeps echoing through my mind, making my brain attempt to work through each of his tricky words.

---------------

Hope you liked it!

So basically, this chapter was written to tell part of the story, but also to signal some red flags, some of which I am sure you have spotted already. 

Note on the riddles: Thea's, I took from (naturally) The Hobbit. Loki's first riddle is from a random website. His second, though, I wrote. 

Also, without looking it up, can anyone guess the poem at the very beginning of the chapter?

...And naturally, does anybody have an idea what Loki's last riddle is?

Much to talk about! Please VOTE, and then COMMENT below! Thanks to those who have participated in the contests- those who haven't, you should do it! :D 

I sadly have to go study Calculus now. It is indeed a heinous subject.

LOVE,

Sierra