Loki and Simarra Ch. 02

It's good to be writing again, and while 'Jason' is still on hiatus - Loki and Simarra speak to me on occasion so I've been listening.

This is a short one, so please forgive me for the length, but the endpoint seemed too perfect to continue and leave a classic "cliffhanger."

There will be more, I appreciate the response (comments and emails - which I've finally started checking again) so without further ado...here's chapter 2.

Thanks for reading,

Kitty

A note to new readers - this is not a standalone story and will not make sense unless you've read chapter 1

*****

Simarra turned over and snuggled deeper into the most comfortable bed she'd ever been in. She smiled to herself and had an inner-congratulations on a job well done, when her mind forced her to recollect something important.

She wasn't on vacation, she wasn't in her apartment, and she wasn't in her room back home.

Instead of freaking out...well, outwardly freaking out anyway; she slowly opened her eyes to take in her surroundings. The bedroom where she found herself was about twice the size of her apartment in Paris, and she could hear birds chirping nearby and water flowing in the distance.

She looked out of the window and saw what looked like the tops of palm trees, and saw nothing but skies that were more of a lavender color than the standard blue; rife with big puffy clouds.

"Where the hell am I?" she wondered aloud as she sat up. She slapped her face and shoulder hard thinking that some bug was crawling on her, and was stunned to see hair. Hair that looked very much like hers used to...before the accident.

"What kind of fucking lunatic kidnaps someone and puts them in a wig, owwww...," she made the mistake of yanking the hair expecting it to come off, and became painfully aware of the fact that the hair was indeed her own. As she pulled her hand away from her hair; she noticed that the ring finger on her left hand was completely free of the scar that had become a part of her.

Lacking a mirror, she ran her hand along the right side of her jaw, and neck while looking at her chest in search of her scars. Her skin was perfect, and she frantically ripped the covers from her legs and noticed that the deep scar on her left thigh was gone as well. If she hadn't almost ripped a chunk of hair out of her head; she would've been convinced that she was dreaming.

"What the fu...," Simarra started to say when she heard the distinct sound of a shower being turned off, and she realized that there was so much to take in that she didn't even realize the shower was on. Knowing that there was nowhere that she could hide, she did the best thing that she could think of under the circumstances; she lay back down and pretended to be asleep. If whomever had her wanted to harm her, they already would have, right?

When she saw him round the corner from the bathroom, her memory came flooding back. She caught herself before she gasped, and tried to see more clearly through the slit in the eye she was slightly opening. After she felt secure that he wasn't looking her way, she opened her eyes, and the gasp that almost escaped that time wasn't one of remembrance.

He had a long towel draped low on his hips, and though he looked quite thin in his costume earlier; he was actually ripped. He had a swimmer's build, only more defined. She noticed that he gave the term "white man" a whole new meaning, or more accurately a quite literal meaning because he was so pale it looked as though he hadn't seen the sun in ages.

She watched him towel drying the mass of jet black hair that fell past his shoulders, and as he turned toward the wall of closets; she noticed the black, tribal-style tattoos that swirled over his entire back. They were stunning and not your run-of-the-mill, overly-hyped tribals, but similar to those of the Māori of New Zealand - the tattoos of warriors. He opened the closet door and grabbed what looked to be a black t-shirt and dark green pants, draped them over the bar on the door, and put the towel that he'd been using to dry his hair over the other door.

As his hands went to his waist, she knew that she shouldn't look but couldn't help herself. His back was still facing her as he pulled the towel from his waist revealing a perfect set of muscular and shapely legs and an ass to match. After a discomforting heat began to spread through her body, she did close her eyes and wait for the inevitable confrontation.

***

She couldn't have noticed the wicked smile he sported as he slipped into his clothes, as he waited for her to say something to him. He almost laughed at her obvious intake of breath when he removed his towel, but he opted to allow her to continue her rouse.

He desperately wanted to speak with her, but after discovering that she didn't remember their time together; he was willing to work through things at her pace.

He turned to look at her after he was fully dressed, and although he'd initially forgotten about the healing properties of this realm when he'd chosen to bring her here; the removal of her scars didn't make her any more beautiful. That, he decided, was an impossibility because even though her outward beauty was breathtaking to say the least; her inner beauty coupled with her courage was what really set her apart.

The change in her appearance only served to make her identical to his memories of her and he could understand now why his brother had been so taken with a human; although his instincts were still telling him that Simarra wasn't human, or completely human at least.

***

There was a soft knock at the door and as Loki went to answer it, Simarra made a show of stirring in the bed and waking up. When he walked back into the room with a tray full of what she guessed was fruit, cheese, and juice; she was sitting up in the bed with a puzzled look on her face. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were flushed, and the white top she was wearing made her beautiful skin appear an even deeper shade of brown. She was by far the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

"Ah, the lady awakens. I've taken the liberty of getting breakfast for you. This might be a little different than what you're used to, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway," he said as he carefully placed the tray on a bedside table.

"You didn't kill me, why?"

He was expecting the "why am I here?" and/or the "what did you do to me?" line of questioning, but he was grossly unprepared for what just came out of her mouth.

"Why are you in such a rush to depart this plane of existence?" He looked at her curiously, really wanting to know why she was in such a rush to die, and thankful that he hadn't granted that request.

He also decided to hold off on trying to explain the fact that they'd met before, eventually she'd remember but in the meantime he wanted to learn all that he could about her.

She looked at him as he sat down on the bed with her, and before she could stop herself; she was picturing him naked again. She shook her head before responding.

"You can't answer a question with a question. Why didn't you kill me?"

"Madam, I believe I did just that, but I will answer your question and then you will answer mine. I didn't kill you because there would've been no sport in it, and no satisfaction for me. Truthfully, there's something about you that intrigues me. You intrigue me like no other before, and I wasn't willing to let go of that feeling."

She looked thoughtful as she pondered what he'd just said. Before she could put words to her thoughts, he spoke.

"Now that I've answered your question; quite truthfully I might add, I want the answer to mine. Why are you in such a rush to die?"

He watched her face void of emotions, and there was a resignation there as well. She was getting ready to reveal a part of herself to him.

"About 2 years ago I was involved in a terrible accident. My husband and baby were killed, and by some cruel joke I was spared. We were hit in my side of the car while on a bridge, and as I tried to keep the car from careening over the guardrail, I felt my husband's hand on my thigh and I looked into his eyes one last time. I saw my sleeping baby boy in the backseat, and was jarred when we were hit again on the passenger side of the car. I...I struggled with the wheel as the shattered glass hit my face, and in a turn of events that I still don't understand; my hand went out of the window, and somehow my wedding ring caught on a bolt on the bridge. The car went over the railing, but because I wasn't wearing my seat belt, my finger catching on the bridge held me secure while the car and my life fell around me..."

It had been quite some time since she'd told anyone that story, and though her voice remained somewhat steady; there was a heavy stream of tears flowing down her face. Loki was at a loss as to what to do to comfort her, and he subconsciously reached out and gently took her hand.

"I was told that it was a miracle that I'd survived. It took the doctors hours to reattach the tendons in my finger, and more hours to stitch my leg back together; I almost lost both and I was in a coma for 6 months. They found my husband and my...my baby two days after the accident. It wasn't a miracle that I'd survived, it was a curse," she said as she angrily wiped her tears. "My internal injuries were such that I'd never be able to bear another child, and my heart died with my two loves, so I'd never want to have another child. How is that a miracle?"

It was when she looked into his eyes again that he felt as if he'd been stabbed in the heart, as if he could see what she'd been through as it happened. It was in that moment that he wanted to see what joy would look like in her eyes, and this was a foreign concept to him. He hadn't wanted to inflict anything but mischief and pain for so long, this feeling of wanting to inflict happiness almost made him uncomfortable.

"Weren't your family and friends supportive during this time?" She could see the concern etched into his face, and gave a mirthless chuckle. He was curious as to how she was all alone in this world, or seemed to feel that way at least.

"My friends tried to be there for me, but their love and support was suffocating in its sweetness and purity, and in the end I shut them out. I'm adopted and once I lost faith in God, my parents started to distance themselves from me until we ultimately stopped speaking. It was a terrible time, and between my self-isolation and my parents' distance; I'd made myself alone in this world...well, in my world."

Understanding a little more about why she was so strong and knowing that there was little that he could do to comfort her; he'd concern himself with trying to get her to eat something because she'd been sleeping for three days. Right on cue, she started asking questions again in a thinly veiled attempt to change the subject.

"So where are we?"

She watched as he picked up the tray of food and put it on the bed between them. He motioned toward the food with his hand before replying to her.

"We are on Edda in the realm of Svartalfheim. I have friends here, and my family doesn't know of the existence of my home here. I visit when I want time away from the perfection that is my brother, the adoration of him by my father and our people, and when I just want to be with those that appreciate me for who I am, not because of my supposed lineage."

She looked at the myriad of emotions that played across his face with his speech, and she realized that he was as passionate as he was handsome. And oh was he handsome!

"I noticed that you mentioned your father but not your mother, why is that?" She took a bit of fruit and tried it. It tasted much like a mango to her surprise and pleasure, and she immediately took another bite.

"Frigga; my mother, is one of the most wonderful souls in existence. She never made me feel like I was less than Thor, or...anyone else for that matter. She shared her time, her magic, and most importantly her love and her heart with me. She is my one great love in this world," he said with a pleasant smile on his face as he thought of her.

"You're lucky to have her, but Loki; surely your father loves you, and I'm sure your brother does as well." Simarra stated almost as a question, but as she did she placed her hand back on top of his on the bed. This simple action caused him to look at her hand before he gently took it into his own again. He looked deeply into her eyes before continuing.

"Of course I love my brother, I just tire of being reminded how great he is and how I pale in comparison. Deep down I'd like to believe that my father lov...cares for me, but after I learned of my true heritage; I just don't see how he possibly could."

She watched as he looked down at their joined hands again, and realized that she might have just figured something out about the God of Mischief.

"Now Loki, I'm not a psychiatrist but on Earth we have a phenomena called a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Sounds pretentious and preposterous...please continue," he interrupted with his trademark charm.

She couldn't help but giggle as she continued, "okay, when someone is afraid of a particular outcome; they sometimes consciously or subconsciously do things to make sure that the outcome that they're afraid of, is the outcome that actually happens."

She watched as he squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, obvious signs that he was thinking about what she'd said.

"So what you're saying is...that "psychiatrists"," he made air quotes with his hands, "come up with this drivel as a chosen profession? Is that what you're saying?"

She couldn't help but laugh at his humorous deflection, and nodded in agreement; anxious to see his smile again. He granted her unspoken request in short order, before changing the subject altogether.

"Tell me Simarra, how is it that someone as gorgeous as yourself has managed to remain unattached. I mean I understand you not remarrying, but have I stolen you away from someone special?"

Loki's thumb was moving back and forth over the back of her hand, the hand that he'd barely let go of since they'd started talking. This action coupled with his question caused a flutter in her belly that she wasn't ready for.

"There have been...ahem," she had to clear her throat and look away from him, and he smiled at her discomfort, "a few guys who have asked but I couldn't even say yes to something as simple as a date. It didn't seem fair to them to let them believe that there was a chance, to let them believe that I wasn't too damaged to move forward. The short answer to your question is that there's no one special."

"I should hope for your sake that someday, you'll allow someone into your heart again. I'm sure it's a lovely place to be."

Before she could stop the words from tumbling forth, her heart spoke before her mind could stop it, and she was flirting.

"Are you tossing your hat into the ring Oh God of Mischief?" She had a cocky smirk on her face as she asked him a question that she hadn't realized how impactful his answer would be.

He pinned her with a look so intense that the smirk fell from her face, and she felt as though she might catch fire. He brought her hand up to his mouth, and she could feel his breath ghost over her skin.

"Simarra, I would lay waste to any other man who attempted to make a play for your heart, how's that for self-fulfilling prophecy?" and Loki kissed her hand while maintaining that intense eye contact.

"Oh God," flew out of her mouth on a harsh whisper as she splayed her other hand across her chest. She was held captive by those blue-green eyes framed by that damp jet black hair, and those red lips that she could only imagine kissing at that point in time.

"No, not God; Loki," he replied, and then licked his lips, bit and sucked his bottom lip before smiling at her.

His words coupled with that thing he did with his lips had to be one of the sexiest things she'd ever seen in her life, and she couldn't stop staring at his mouth.

The flutter in her belly instantly became a roaring fire.

********(_(********

Okay, for those fans out there, the lip-licking, biting, and sucking thing - that's strictly a Tom Hiddleston thing that I find incredibly sexy! I HAD to make that a part of Loki, and it was just for me but I do hope that you liked it too :-D