Killer Queen ~ Loki Laufeyson

Prologue

There I sat. Back against the wall of the library. Flipping my knife in my hand. I watch the way the moonlight makes the blade shimmer. I like it. It gives me a sense of peace. So does being surrounded by books. Stories and realities I long to be in. To escape the truth and the lies of everything around me. To escape the future I am so destined to be apart of.

Music streamed through the cracks of the door and the sound of voices accompanied it. I started to hum the song as my head hung low, my foot tapping to the beat unknowingly. Parties like this were thrown almost every week but after a while it gets repetitive and annoying. So instead I go to the one place no one ever comes. The library. The sweet, calming sanctuary where I spend these soirées. Listening to my thoughts. Being entranced by dreams I so wish to be true, and they are. Until I open my eyes and I am transported back to the desolate building that I so unwillingly call home.

Home is a place you feel welcome and loved and cared for. Which is hard to come by when everyone around you is always busy on missions or with their own family. I guess it's fine, I have Jarvis and other agents. However, being a young member of the Avengers has more negatives than positives.

Footsteps approach the door. My eyes dart to the handle as it turns slowly. I get a good grip on my knife, getting ready to throw it at whoever reveals themselves behind the door.  The door swings open and my knife has wedged itself in the wall, inches away from Thor's head. 

He stares at the knife and lets out a laugh before placing his gaze onto my enclosed figure at the back of the room. 

"Good evening My Lady, nice to see you practicing your aim" The God says before letting out another roar and taking a swig of beer.

"It was a warning shot, I'm not in mood for killing anyone, yet" I retort back, raising my eyes to meet his. I stand up and walk over to him, not breaking eye-contact as I rip my knife out of the wall and placing it in it's hilt. I make my way through the door way and out into the corridor where distant laughs can be heard. "At the back is a pile of my favourite books if you need any recommendations" I flash Thor a quick emotionless smile as I turn to walk to my room. 

"My Lady please wait, I was coming to find you and was told you reside these nights in the library" Thor bellows as he rushes up to me.

"What is it you need from me?" I ask, my back still toward him as my feet carried me towards the lift. 

He doesn't reply.

Curiously I turn to face Thor and find him fiddling with his hands, brows furrowed, cheeks hot red as he tries to figure out the the right words. 

"Well?" I say, raising an eyebrow. A subtle smirk appearing on my face. I have never seen The God of Thunder act so flustered and lost for words before. 

He lifts his head and begins to speak, "I have met a fair maiden but do not posses the words to converse with her".

I let out a little chuckle, "And you want my help?"

"Yes, I have heard that you have a way with words when it comes to love and would like your help," He pauses, "I think she is the one"

"The one aye, well I am sure I can help. Be aware though, my 'façon de parler' does kill yano"

The rest of the night I coached Thor on how to speak to a midgardian woman without creeping her out. When it came time to put the training to the test I was almost a little excited. I'd always loved teaching people, it made me feel superior in a way. It made me feel that people look up to me in an aspiringly.

We made our way into the main party area where most of the guests stood, including Jane Foster. This was, as I found out not so long ago, Thor's crush whom he had gotten to know as a friend over the past months, but was ready to take it a step further. 

I take my place at the bar and order a coke as Thor goes over to Jane to put into practice what I had just taught him. 

It's bitter sweet really. I've always wanted to find love. The Mr Darcy to my Elizabeth. Or the Edward to my Bella. A while back I tried a dating app. I guess guys don't like girls who like knives and guns. Not to mention someone who finds torture an art. It truly is art. It is the beautiful admiration for all things living and dead. It is the thing that makes my heart race, and that cheers me up when I'm down. 

I guess that's why I'm such an asset to the team. I am never merciful. I never will be. However in some ways, it can make a person crumble until they are nothing but a killing machine. Not a humane cell left in their body. That's what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid that this sensation will become purgatory. I'm afraid I'll take something too far and ruin everything I've gained.

Being afraid is a weakness. A weakness that is detrimental to my job, my artform. 

I'm snapped out of my head by the sound of Thor's booming laugh. My glazed eyes look over to where Thor is standing. A smile creeps to my lips as I look away from the lovers. Before I lay my eyes onto my drink to take another sip, I am confronted with someone staring concerningly into my soul. As if he could hear my thoughts. He sits far away, at a table straight ahead of me. As soon as our eyes meet my face twists into confusion. Realising that I've been staring for way too long, I whip my head back towards the counter and continue to drink my drink. Not daring to glance his way again. 

My thoughts begin to race. Who was that? He seems strangely familiar. What was he doing staring straight at me? He probably wasn't even looking at me. Maybe he was zoned out. Or maybe he's blind. Or maybe he has a lazy eye and he was actually looking at the person behind me. 

Not long after the incident with the strange man I decided to retire to my room. I slip out of my attire and put on something comfortable to sleep in. The party can no longer be heard to such an extent in my room than it was in the library. I lay my head on my pillow, hands on my diaphragm and look up at the ceiling in the dark. Listening to the motion of the trees outside. The distant car honks of the bustling city. I focus on my breathing. I focus on the way my lungs rise and fall as if it is like the waves of the ocean I yearn to be engulfed by. My eyes become heavy and my breathing slows, surrendering myself to sleep. Not knowing the strange man would be the only thing I dreamt about.