HOME | DD

Description

Chapter 4
After acquiring sparring gear – gloves and light padding for the arms and shins – both women slowly circled, poised to defend or attack, but neither made a move.  Natasha nodded in appreciation.
"You're a shrewd fighter, Angela; watching my moves, studying me."
Angela grinned with a subtle smirk.  "And you're doing the same."
"So I am," the assassin replied with a faint grin of her own.
Again they circled, this time taking swift, short jabs or kicks that the other easily deflected.  Gradually the fight became more intense.  They moved ever more quickly and aggressively, each landing solid blows to the other.  A few minutes passed in this manner.
"Why do I get the feeling you're not going all out?"
Natasha grinned.  "Because I'm not."
A moment later, this was no longer the case.  Natasha lunged forward with too much speed even for Angela to counter, and the martial artist soon found herself lying flat on her back, Natasha standing over her.  The assassin smiled.
"Well fought, I actually worked up a sweat."
Angela accepted the hand offered to her, a faint sheepish smile parting her lips.  "Did you?  It didn't look like it."
Natasha chuckled.  "Well, you haven't spent your life doing the kind of dangerous work that I have.  I had to be the very best if I wanted to survive."
"True enough.  Well, thank you for the match."  Angela faced Natasha, a fisted glove enclosed in her open hand, and bowed, a sign of respect which Natasha returned with a nod of her own.  "I should get some rest; I have a long day tomorrow."
She bade her friends goodnight and was soon resting in her bed.  As soon as she found herself alone in the darkness, her mind suddenly wandered to Loki; that dangerous trickster had her questioning when his next mad scheme would begin.  She never knew when he would appear, which kept her on edge.  His face swirled into view in her mind, smirking, green eyes filled with mocking laughter.  Angela squeezed her eyes shut tightly, banishing his face from her mind.  Why did he have to be so damned handsome?  She had made light of it when dealing with him directly, but she in truth found him the most attractive man she'd seen.  Why did she have to find herself drawn toward men with long, dark hair, and furthermore, why did he of all people have to possess that quality?  It would be infinitely easier for Angela if he were as physically twisted as his black heart.  And those vibrant eyes… so infuriatingly superior, and at the same time had a way of looking at her which sent a shiver down her spine that was not fear.
She recalled his story, and found herself sympathizing.  He had been living a lie all of his life, and when he finally had discovered the truth, he had felt hurt and betrayed by it.  Used as nothing more than a tool by the man who had called himself "father," though Loki had never known… Angela could relate to his feelings, but unlike him, she had found forgiveness in her heart.  Loki was… a prisoner of his own bitterness and resentment.  If he could somehow learn, as Angela had, to let it go…
"Get real." Angela told the darkness, startling herself with the sound of her own voice.  "He's a monster; I shouldn't even be thinking of him like this."
There was no redemption for Loki; he was thoroughly lost in his own darkness, and had done horrible, unforgiveable things because of it.  Sympathizing with him would only make her vulnerable.  With that, she rolled over and fell asleep, firmly shutting out any further thought of the trickster god.
Loki silently materialized from the darkness while Angela slept on, looking at her intently.  He knew her thoughts, and they displeased him.  Partially because he scarcely needed a human girl's pity; but still more irksome was the fact that he felt any reaction at all.  This human, this simple girl, had vexed him from the beginning.  Her refusal to be intimidated even as she stood before him, the resolve in her piercing eyes… she had even dared attack him.  She had great strength, oh yes.  He examined her again, stepping closer to the bed.
"You are a lovely creature, vexing though I find you, woman."  He amused himself by tracing a finger down the side of her face, and leaned closer, as close as when she had been awake.  He liked this game, and would enjoy it all the more when she finally succumbed to his will, though he mused, he hoped she wouldn't break too quickly.  "Let us see just what strength your spirit possesses, my dear.  When I rule this world… perhaps I shall make you mine."  He grinned wickedly.  "If you pass the test…"
Angela shifted and her eyes opened, looking around dazed and bleary-eyed.  She had thought… but a scan of the room revealed only darkness and shadow.  She checked her watch.  2 am.  With a groan, she rolled over and returned to sleep quickly.
Angela woke early as she usually did, and went about her day cheerfully, unaware of the events in the night.  To her, things seemed to be going well – she was quickly learning what her wand could teach her, and she felt by the end of the day that she would be able to fend off the mind games Loki was playing.  The day ended without incident, and Angela slept restlessly.  She refused to give credit for the restlessness to Loki; she was no stranger to nights when she tossed and turned.
Waking in the morning, Angela decided to shower, her mind gradually waking as the warm water flowed over her.  Suddenly her mind snapped awake with a shudder at the realization that something was horribly wrong.  The water… something had changed about the water, it felt more like...  Frantically pushing wet hair out of her face, Angela opened her eyes and almost screamed.
Her back hit the cold tile away from the water as she stared.  The warm liquid issuing forth from the shower head was no longer water.  Instead, Angela discovered to her horror, it was blood.  Her heart almost stopped, and the color drained from her face.
"More parlor tricks?" she whispered aloud.
A familiar, menacing chuckle echoed in her mind. "If only…"
Angela forced herself to remain calm.  What she was seeing was an illusion, it wasn't real, and it couldn't hurt her.  "You should find a day job – your mind games are not going to break me."
"Oh, it is true you have considerable strength, but even you have limits.  You are only human, and I will not stop until I have pushed you to your limit.  You will long for the end before I am through.  For every time you resist me, I will test you again, each time more severely than the last."
"Get lost."
Another chuckle.  "Make me."
Angela did.  She shut her mind to him, grateful of having learned how.  Immediately the water returned to normal.  Angela turned up the heat to calm herself.  She put her fists against the tile, eyes clouding with tears she fought to suppress.  How could she keep turning him away?  He was right… she couldn't fight him forever, and she was certain he would make good on his threat.  He would haunt her until he won.  What could she do?  The water flowed over her, seeming to bring with it a feeling of hopelessness that sank into her skin.

Description

Chapter 4
After acquiring sparring gear – gloves and light padding for the arms and shins – both women slowly circled, poised to defend or attack, but neither made a move.  Natasha nodded in appreciation.
"You're a shrewd fighter, Angela; watching my moves, studying me."
Angela grinned with a subtle smirk.  "And you're doing the same."
"So I am," the assassin replied with a faint grin of her own.
Again they circled, this time taking swift, short jabs or kicks that the other easily deflected.  Gradually the fight became more intense.  They moved ever more quickly and aggressively, each landing solid blows to the other.  A few minutes passed in this manner.
"Why do I get the feeling you're not going all out?"
Natasha grinned.  "Because I'm not."
A moment later, this was no longer the case.  Natasha lunged forward with too much speed even for Angela to counter, and the martial artist soon found herself lying flat on her back, Natasha standing over her.  The assassin smiled.
"Well fought, I actually worked up a sweat."
Angela accepted the hand offered to her, a faint sheepish smile parting her lips.  "Did you?  It didn't look like it."
Natasha chuckled.  "Well, you haven't spent your life doing the kind of dangerous work that I have.  I had to be the very best if I wanted to survive."
"True enough.  Well, thank you for the match."  Angela faced Natasha, a fisted glove enclosed in her open hand, and bowed, a sign of respect which Natasha returned with a nod of her own.  "I should get some rest; I have a long day tomorrow."
She bade her friends goodnight and was soon resting in her bed.  As soon as she found herself alone in the darkness, her mind suddenly wandered to Loki; that dangerous trickster had her questioning when his next mad scheme would begin.  She never knew when he would appear, which kept her on edge.  His face swirled into view in her mind, smirking, green eyes filled with mocking laughter.  Angela squeezed her eyes shut tightly, banishing his face from her mind.  Why did he have to be so damned handsome?  She had made light of it when dealing with him directly, but she in truth found him the most attractive man she'd seen.  Why did she have to find herself drawn toward men with long, dark hair, and furthermore, why did he of all people have to possess that quality?  It would be infinitely easier for Angela if he were as physically twisted as his black heart.  And those vibrant eyes… so infuriatingly superior, and at the same time had a way of looking at her which sent a shiver down her spine that was not fear.
She recalled his story, and found herself sympathizing.  He had been living a lie all of his life, and when he finally had discovered the truth, he had felt hurt and betrayed by it.  Used as nothing more than a tool by the man who had called himself "father," though Loki had never known… Angela could relate to his feelings, but unlike him, she had found forgiveness in her heart.  Loki was… a prisoner of his own bitterness and resentment.  If he could somehow learn, as Angela had, to let it go…
"Get real." Angela told the darkness, startling herself with the sound of her own voice.  "He's a monster; I shouldn't even be thinking of him like this."
There was no redemption for Loki; he was thoroughly lost in his own darkness, and had done horrible, unforgiveable things because of it.  Sympathizing with him would only make her vulnerable.  With that, she rolled over and fell asleep, firmly shutting out any further thought of the trickster god.
Loki silently materialized from the darkness while Angela slept on, looking at her intently.  He knew her thoughts, and they displeased him.  Partially because he scarcely needed a human girl's pity; but still more irksome was the fact that he felt any reaction at all.  This human, this simple girl, had vexed him from the beginning.  Her refusal to be intimidated even as she stood before him, the resolve in her piercing eyes… she had even dared attack him.  She had great strength, oh yes.  He examined her again, stepping closer to the bed.
"You are a lovely creature, vexing though I find you, woman."  He amused himself by tracing a finger down the side of her face, and leaned closer, as close as when she had been awake.  He liked this game, and would enjoy it all the more when she finally succumbed to his will, though he mused, he hoped she wouldn't break too quickly.  "Let us see just what strength your spirit possesses, my dear.  When I rule this world… perhaps I shall make you mine."  He grinned wickedly.  "If you pass the test…"
Angela shifted and her eyes opened, looking around dazed and bleary-eyed.  She had thought… but a scan of the room revealed only darkness and shadow.  She checked her watch.  2 am.  With a groan, she rolled over and returned to sleep quickly.
Angela woke early as she usually did, and went about her day cheerfully, unaware of the events in the night.  To her, things seemed to be going well – she was quickly learning what her wand could teach her, and she felt by the end of the day that she would be able to fend off the mind games Loki was playing.  The day ended without incident, and Angela slept restlessly.  She refused to give credit for the restlessness to Loki; she was no stranger to nights when she tossed and turned.
Waking in the morning, Angela decided to shower, her mind gradually waking as the warm water flowed over her.  Suddenly her mind snapped awake with a shudder at the realization that something was horribly wrong.  The water… something had changed about the water, it felt more like...  Frantically pushing wet hair out of her face, Angela opened her eyes and almost screamed.
Her back hit the cold tile away from the water as she stared.  The warm liquid issuing forth from the shower head was no longer water.  Instead, Angela discovered to her horror, it was blood.  Her heart almost stopped, and the color drained from her face.
"More parlor tricks?" she whispered aloud.
A familiar, menacing chuckle echoed in her mind. "If only…"
Angela forced herself to remain calm.  What she was seeing was an illusion, it wasn't real, and it couldn't hurt her.  "You should find a day job – your mind games are not going to break me."
"Oh, it is true you have considerable strength, but even you have limits.  You are only human, and I will not stop until I have pushed you to your limit.  You will long for the end before I am through.  For every time you resist me, I will test you again, each time more severely than the last."
"Get lost."
Another chuckle.  "Make me."
Angela did.  She shut her mind to him, grateful of having learned how.  Immediately the water returned to normal.  Angela turned up the heat to calm herself.  She put her fists against the tile, eyes clouding with tears she fought to suppress.  How could she keep turning him away?  He was right… she couldn't fight him forever, and she was certain he would make good on his threat.  He would haunt her until he won.  What could she do?  The water flowed over her, seeming to bring with it a feeling of hopelessness that sank into her skin.