#didimention

He hadn't seen her for over two weeks now. Feelings started to form, which simply angered the god further. Feelings were for mortals, not Gods. He shouldn't feel this lonely without her around. He had always been alone and preferred it that way. But alas, he couldn't stop himself from thinking, had he said the wrong things? Had he pushed to far? Had he overstepped some invisible line he was unaware Midgardians had?

He had taken to lazing around the training center hoping he would bump into her. He felt in his very soul that he had to know her, needed to be near her. Thor had noticed this action, and continuously teased Loki about it. Mistakenly, Loki and spoken to his brother about these developing feelings.

“Why do you like her?” Thor had innocently asked.

“Her song,” Loki had answered in an unguarded moment of open clarity, that had been meant to stay to himself. It was true of course her voice had drawn him in further, but it wasn't all that drew him to her. Her almost ethereal beauty, the way she challenged him and spoke as though she were his equal. Even the frustrating way she wouldn't directly answer his inquiries, only made him want to know everything he could about her.

Thor now took any and every opportunity to pick at him about it, but there he was day after day, waiting.

This particular day, however he had gotten fed up with himself. Damnit, why am I acting this way? Throwing his hands up in frustration, he turned to leave. To hell with these damned mortal emotions.

But a sound reached his ears as he turned to leave, stopping him in his tracks. It was low and mournful, yet eerily sweet. It was a song with no words, and it both tore out his heart and filled it with joy. Chasing the tune, his feet thundered through the halls. It's her, he thought, It's Iloa, it has to be! Coming to a training room door, he threw it open without hesitation.

But no one was there. “No,” he gasped into the empty space, "I have finally gone mad,” he breathed unsteadily.

But no it was still there, further down the hall. He had simply acted to quickly. He walked further down the hall, slowly this time. Cautiously checking each door as he went. And then. . .

There she was, Iloa, standing in the middle of the room head lifted to the ceiling, her long ruby red locks cascading down her back. In the light they looked like liquid fire, flowing around and framing her silhouette. Her eyes closed, as she sang her haunting tune.

Something warm and wet rolled down his cheek and he looked up to see if the foreign thing had come from the ceiling.

Nothing there.

With shaky fingers, he touched the liquid now rolling down both cheeks. Tears. He was crying. Never in his life had this happened, and looking back at the beauty before him, he knew it was her song affecting him this way. At least, that's what he told himself.

Before he realized his feet were moving, he was reaching out to the girl. Wrapping her up in his arms, pulling her back flush with his chest, just as her song ended. Feeling the familiar and comforting spark course through him to his heart. She smelled like the ocean on a sunny day and he gulped in greedy lung fulls trying to fill himself with her.

She gasped softly, but knew who had her even before he spoke. His scent wrapping around her and filling her lungs. And the electricity was always there.

“Why are you so sad, my dear?” he whispered against her hair. He knew at full voice, she would hear the trembling timber in it.

She chuckled, which seemed completely out of atmosphere to Loki. “I am not sad, it's just practice. This song doesn't hurt anyone,” she answered, not understanding his actions. "Um," she added confused, "You can let go now."

No, I can't. It hurt me, he thought meekly, then immediately shook his head against her hair, causing her to giggle. The sound cleared his addled brain, bringing back a touch of the anger he had started feeling at her absence. He trembled, tightening his grasp on her, fighting to keep the anger and the rest of those damned emotions at bay. All he wanted to feel was her warmth and the buzzing spark coursing through his veins. It was comforting, welcoming. It was home.

Iloa felt the shift in him, like a string tugging at her heart. He was trembling, and his arms tightened minutely around her waist. She huffed slightly at the constriction, but managed to turn to face him even within the tight grasp. She placed her hand on his cheek and he nuzzled into the touch. This was not like him. His eyes closed, head bowed, his long raven hair hiding his face. The trembling had not stopped but seemed to grow worse at her touch. Her brow knitted together, as she leaned closer trying to see his face, “Loki, what's the matter with you? Are you alright?” her voice calm, low, and very desperate.

The desperation in her voice made Loki's mind snap, had he hurt her? Had he done the wrong thing showing concern? Why was he feeling these things for her? Why was he feeling anything at all? Why was he frightened?

Fear? Fear?! His brain roared to life with rage, I fear nothing! No one! This witch has spelled me for the last time! He dropped his arms and was beside the door in an instant. Fists forming at his sides, peeking up through the curtain of his hair. Willing his seiðr forth, “Where have you been?” he demanded, in a low threatening growl. He would have his answers, and this time he was prepared to fight to get them.

Even though he was clear across the room now, Iloa couldn't stop herself from taking a step back from the monster now before her. That is what he became, teeth barred, snarling at her. Even the way he looked up at her, eyes glowing lime green, was nothing short of a predator stalking his prey. She sighed long and low, very aware of the dangerous game she had been playing with the god. She raised her hands in front of her chest, placating the animal she had somehow awoken, “I was out,” she kept her voice low, calm, submissive, with just a hint of a calming hum, “On a mission, with the others. I am sorry no one told you.” She dropped her hands and head, this wasn't anyone's fault but hers, “I am sorry that I didn't tell you.”

The hurt in that last sentence tore at Loki's heart, but he couldn't still the rage in his mind. Through her sweet and gentle words he could pick up the hum, but this time it was having no effect on him. He slammed a fist backwards against the wall beside the door frame Putting just a touch of his magic into his fist, the drywall to cracked and splintered all the way down the wall. He reveled in the gasp that emitted from her throat, stopping her song.

“STOP SINGING!” he shouted, his voice a warning, a threat, a promise, but of what Iloa wasn't sure, she only knew it wouldn't be anything good. “You have poisoned my mind for the last time, you foul wench!” He spit these words at her, as though the very admission that she had affected him left a bad taste in his mouth. Truth be told, it had. Only not for the reasons he was currently divulging.

She glared up at him, still hurt by his change and now words. “I didn't poison you, Loki!” she shot back in an attempt to get him out of the state he was in.

Loki watched her eyes turn into blazing sapphires, and became hypnotized by them. This was no spell, no song. He wasn't under anyone's influence but his own. My mind is my own, but why can't I control it! His mind roared again but this time the anger was aimed more at himself.

To Iloa, it seemed that the only thing Loki ever responded to when he was like this, was more anger or violence. She could play that game and if it meant saving her life against the God, she would. “All I have done is speak to you. Sure our first real conversation wasn't exactly under your control, at the beginning,” she waved a hand at him dismissively, “But let's be honest here, what I did is nothing compared to what you have done.” Bravely, she took a step forward, then another, watching confusion flash across his face before the animal returned.

This was working, she had to keep pushing. She had to get through to him, “That's right, Loki. I have heard all the stories.” He actually flinched at her words, but was still snarling at her. More, she had to dig deeper. Stepping forward still, she continued, “How you have tortured and tormented people. Hell, you have even killed to get your way. And not just enemies, oh no! You kill people that are trying to help you! You hurt people that love you, that care for you and just want to get to know you!” She was now standing in front of him, yelling as tears formed in her eyes. It took all her will power to keep them from escaping.

“And yea, that last one is me,” she deflated and watched as he ever so slightly mimicked the action, the seiðr leaving his eyes. “I don't know what this thing is between us, but I can tell you right now it has nothing to do with my songs. And the saddest part of this entire conversation, is that deep down,” she reached up and punctuated her next words by jabbing her finger into his chest right above his heart, “You know what I am saying is true.”

She let out a long sigh, dropping her head and hand. “So call me whatever you think you need to, act out in your confusion and be a fool. Just know that I won't be so easily brushed to the side.”

She moved to pass him, gripping the door handle, but the familiar feel of electricity shot through her hand. He had reached out, laying his hand atop hers. “Stop,” he breathed. The anger was still there, he was still sneering with his eyes closed, head down. But the animal had faded, anger no longer directed at her. “Please, just wait,” he begged.

She dropped her hand out of his grasp, taking a step back and crossing her arms over her chest defensively. He appeared lifeless before her, like a puppet with his strings clipped. “What is wrong, Loki?” she asked sincerely. “If you will not talk to me, we cannot possibly remedy this misunderstanding between us. And I am certain that is all this is, a misunderstanding.”

He nodded his head just enough to register, before dropping to his knees. Iloa rushed to his side reaching out to him, but he held out a hand stopping her, “Please don't,” he whispered. “I can't control this anger. If you touch me again, I know I shall lash out. I don't want that, Iloa.”

She gasped at the sound of her name. Even in his defeated voice it was like the most beautiful music to her ears. She doubted her hearing, “Say it again.” she begged in wonder.

Loki looked up at her, his usual bright emerald eyes seeming dull and dead. “I don't want to hurt you,” he answered.

She shock her head earnestly, kneeling in front of him. His eyes followed her cautiously, but she was careful not to touch him, “Not that,” she breathed, begging him with her eyes.

He cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing. Just as she was about to answer his unasked question, light flashed in his eyes, softening his features, and he answered softly, "Iloa."

Iloa closed her eyes and savored the beauty of her name on his lips. And though she had been warned, she couldn't control her body as it lunged forward wrapping her arms around his neck. Holding Loki tightly, she absorbed the electricity humming sweetly through her veins, she whispered, "Thank you."

He froze, muscles tensing at the contact. He had expected his body to immediately rage against her, but it didn't. Nothing happened, as her comforting embrace tightened, all he felt was her energy and warmth course through his body to his heart. This mortal cared, genuinely cared for him. Slowly, cautiously, he let himself relax. Muscle by muscle, fearing this would turn against Iloa at any moment. But it didn't, the anger had a new target. Sighing in relief, Loki knew it was no longer the girl holding him, he was only angry with himself.

He returned the embrace timidly at first, then she made a sound, almost like a purr, at his touch and he tightened his arms, effectively pulling her across his lap and burying his face in her luscious locks. There was another scent there, one his mind refused to identify. It was thick and heady, and all to familiar. But hard as he tried, he couldn't pull from his memory exactly what it was.

"I am burdened with these feelings towards you. And I hate myself and you, but I can't hate you. Why? Why do I feel this? I can't, I cannot," he said in a panicked whisper against her hair. She tried to move to see his face but he held her tighter. "I am a God!" he added, his voice sounding strangled as he forced it past his lips. Squeezing her until she groaned in response.

She chuckled lightly, running her fingers through his long dark locks, comfortingly. "Perhaps, you are more human than you think," she answered.

He huffed without amusement, "Doubtful," he admitted, relaxing into her embrace. She could breathe again and held him close, as he continued to speak, "I have a need to be near you, always," he took a shuttering breathe, forcing the next words, "I have fear."

Immediately, he hated himself for admitting this fault. He buried himself more completely in Iloa's embrace, like a child seeking comfort.

She smoothed his hair, "We all have fear, dear Loki. We all need comfort sometimes as well," she cooed.

Immediately, he tensed and she knew that her words had not had the effect she had wanted. He moved his hands to grasp her waist, placing her back on her knees again, gently but firmly. He rose to his feet and her eyes followed. He turned for the door, "I am a God, mortal!" He snarled the words at her, but it sounded forced. There was no bite behind them. "I shall have no fears."

He opened the door, hearing her sigh deeply behind him. He glanced momentarily, over his shoulder at where she still knelt on the floor. Those sapphire eyes claimed him as she spoke softly, "Please know, I will be here for you, when you are ready."