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~~~Volturi Palace, Volterra, Italy~~~

~~2005~~

Loki walked into the palace, but instead of going to her chambers or even her bedroom, she decided to go a different way. She felt pulled to a certain part of the castle.

After walking for a few moments, she came to a door. She opened it and then smelt something strange. Wax. Candle wax.

Though the palace was old, Loki didn't think that it was still lit by candles. She got a better look at the room and saw Marcus.

He was kneeling in front of an altar, lighting candles. Loki hid her presence with her abilities and watched. 

The altar had hundreds of tiny individual candles. Marcus lit another one and took the picture down from the top. It was a woman: with dark black hair and bright red eyes. The woman was beautiful.

The painting was old, very old. The woman must have been Didyme.

"Come in, Goddess." Loki was surprised. How did he know? She revealed herself and walked over to him. She kneeled beside him.

"That...is Didyme, your late wife, isn't it?" He nodded and handed the picture to her. Loki realized that it was folded. She looked at the whole painting. Marcus was in it.

"I'm sorry. For your loss. I can't say I understand, but I'm sorry." He shrugged delicately. "How...long have you had this altar of remembrance?" Loki asked. "For a very long time."

Loki just kneeled there as she looked at the candles. Some were burning proudly, but some looked old. The oldest were the ones at the top. Marcus was lighting the newest one at that moment.

The oldest was just a burnt stump that was a dark orange color, just like the ones of old. Loki waved her hand as she whispered an old prayer, and each old candle was remade, as they were when they were first lit. They would never burn to the ground again.

"Thank you. Now, could you do me the favor—"

"Of leaving?" Loki finished his sentence. He nodded and looked wistfully at the picture. Loki stood, and she put her ice-cold hand on his shoulder and attempted to imbue him with life magic.

"Thank you, again." She left him to his prayers and sealed his room for as long as he needed.

~~~Barcelona, Spain~~~

~~1617~~

Loki sat on the chaise in the sun as she read the work of art. Her corset constricted her abdomen, but such was the fashion in Spain. Her hair was covered by a black headdress, and a black veil covered her face. She blended in perfectly with the common folk of the country.

A handmaid pattered over and bowed quietly to the goddess. 

"Mi señora, ¿necesita algo más?" Loki shook her head. She had become quite adept at speaking the native tongue and had a penchant for the beautiful language.

The woman, a lady of an age that could not be deduced from simply her looks, took la copa de sangre, and eyed in uncomfortably. "Creo que me quedaré con esto. Gracias, amable señora." Loki took the blood from the woman, who promptly shuffled away.

The beautiful, yet uncomfortable, goddess returned to her work of art. It was not hers, but a work of some gentleman. It was first released to be previewed sometime a few years ago.

But Loki was busy. William Shakespeare was ill with a fever and could not be revived, no matter how hard Loki tried. She truly did enjoy his works. She liked to assume that she was a connoisseur of art, and William's was one to behold.

She actually assisted him with one of his remarkable arts. The one called A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was a true collection of beauty and remarkability.

Nevertheless, she enjoyed this particular gentleman's work. She turned the final leaf of the page and smiled as she sipped the blood.

This Cervantes fellow was quite good. She would have to bring the work with her when she traveled the pilgrim way to Britain. She adored the sunny city in Spain but had business to attend to.

She would take ships and horses and whatever else she desired to Britain as she traveled like a mortal for the first time. Her great disaster needed no rush, and she adored ships. Small ones, to be exact.

"Amable señora, ¿está todo preparado para mi viaje?" Loki called as she stood. She took her saddlebag and placed her work in it. She smiled as the sunlight hit her face, and she raised her veil, basking in it.

It was a true delight, this city.

~~~Volturi Palace, Volterra, Italy~~~

~~2005~~

Loki gazed at the library in the palace. It was beautiful, but she could see that it had not been entered for decades. The most recent addition was most likely something from the twentieth century.

The shelves reached the ceiling, and there were two levels, with a wrap-around second level. There was dust collected on every fiber of every page of every book that was on every shelf, but Loki didn't mind. She felt a breeze flow through the room, and dust sprinkled throughout the air.

She climbed the ladder to the second story and found a shelf of classics. As she searched, she found a familiar friend.

"Don Quixote. Oh, Cervantes, what a Master." She opened the book and read the familiar first sentence as she was entranced in the world of Don Quixote. It reminded her so much of her first pilgrimage. From Spain to Great Britain.

She read, but as she did, she realized that she didn't want to read. She wanted to do something else.

She wanted to have fun.

More fun than usual.

~~~

There was a knock on the door, and Aro heard footsteps. He turned his head and saw a raven-haired goddess.

"Aro, where are the dungeons?" He raised a single brow as a slight gesture. "Throne Room, left hallway, fourth door on the right. Down the staircase, and through the grate on the floor." Loki nodded, but before she left, he stood.

"Why?" She shrugged. "Entertainment. Also, why not? If I am to be here for the next year, then I shall have to find a means to enjoy myself."

What a vampire. Aro didn't think he ever met anyone more infuriating, and certainly not more puzzling, than the goddess.

"There are a number of prisoners who need...a reminder of who the Volturi is. I meant to send Felix months ago, but it seems I forgot. Shall we?" He held an arm out, but she just stood motionless.

"You do wish you could, Aro, but you can't." He chuckled, but on the inside, he was annoyed. he wanted to know. He just had to know. As they walked a mere foot from each other, he felt the urge.

He needed to know what she was. It was tearing him apart not knowing. For as long as he'd lived on this mortal plain, he'd always known whatever he wanted to. But with her, he couldn't.

If she wasn't Caius' soulmate, he would know.

Everything

He felt his hand move towards her but stopped. He liked her. He didn't want to break the thin trust they had between them. If not trust, respect. Whatever it was, he couldn't end it all just for a desire.

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