Loki And Simarra Ch 01

Hi Everyone!

It's been a minute, hasn't it?! Well, to answer a big question, Jason's isn't finished. There's at least one more chapter there but it's disjointed and I'm having the damnedest time getting it together. He just won't let me go! In the meantime, I've developed a bit of an obsession that I have to get out of my system, and that's where this story comes in.

I remember when 'Thor' came out, I barely knew who anyone was and the pic for Thor just didn't sit right with me (it was the fact that they dyed his facial hair!). After watching the movie for a few minutes I realized how wrong I was, but I also started to notice that Thor/Chris Hemsworth was hot, but Loki/Tom Hiddleston was fucking smoking! For me, if they're not Gingers; Brunettes are the next best thing and don't even get me started on that voice...good gravy. As the movies progressed, Loki's hot factor kept turning up, and when 'The Dark World' hit let's just say it was a little uncomfortable sitting next to my husband at times LOL! For a visual reference; this Loki is Tom Hiddleston's/my Loki...because really, is there another Loki?

I get the feeling that if Loki found a woman, or THE woman; to feel that kind of love that he so craves, it would bring the good in him. Maybe Simarra is that woman, let's find out...and please be kind - I'm sure I'm a bit rusty :-)

Thanks for reading,

Kitty

She found herself drifting. Drifting through space with an incredible sense of loss that she was having a hard time placing, and the only real memory was that of a name; Simarra. It was her name she supposed and Simarra had no sense of how long, or why she'd been drifting, just that she was. Sometimes it seemed as though she'd been out here for an eternity, and other times it only seemed as though it had been just a few days or weeks. She was truly lost, but then she sensed that she wasn't alone. There was someone out here that was more lost than she, and that had seemed all but impossible only moments before the realization struck.

*****)_)*****

After releasing Thor's hand and drifting into the unknown; Loki wasn't sure exactly what would happen to him, and he didn't know what he wanted to happen. There was plenty of time for him to wonder if he would die (in the very beginning), or if he would drift for eternity, and after he'd gone through all of those hopeless thoughts, he had time to focus on how best to repay the perceived wrongs heaped upon him by Thor and his father. That focus is what kept him going for the first few months, a strange connection kept him going through the rest.

He'd been drifting for a little over three months by his estimation when he felt a presence that seemed to be observing him. He sensed no danger or animosity, just curiosity which in turn peaked his own curiosity. He decided to act as though he hadn't noticed anything, and see if the presence would purposely make itself known.

He wouldn't have to wait long.

"Where are we? Do you know?"

He was surprised because it was a raspy female voice that came from behind him. She was very near, but also sounded quite distant, and that there wasn't a hint of fear in that voice. He began the process of turning toward the direction of where the voice came from while he began answering her question.

"I'm not exactly sure. We're somewhere between realms..."

When she came into view, his reply died on his lips. She was ethereal in the truest sense of the world. Whereas the two of them may have been drifting between realms, she looked to also be drifting between worlds. While he could see her, he could also see through her and it was a little disconcerting. He watched her facial expression change as his must have.

"What?" she asked while giving herself a once-over. "Do I have something on me?"

He looked at her closely, and he could see that she was a beautiful creature, but he'd never seen one of her kind before. The fact that she spoke English intrigued him, and that she sounded like the Americans of Earth was even more puzzling because there was no way she was an Earthling; they didn't possess the kind of power this female had.

"Wh-what are you?"

When she looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a look as if he'd grown another head, he couldn't help but smile.

"What do you mean 'What am I?"?" I'm a woman...hello! I know my voice is deeper than your average Jane, but I'm pretty sure it's obvious that I'm female," she said gesturing to her spectral yet voluptuous form. A form that he hadn't yet taken the time to peruse.

"Indeed you are," he replied while taking his time and admiring what he could see of her body. "My apologies, I should've phrased that question a bit differently. You see, I'm Loki of Asgard and you are?"

"Oh, I've never heard of Asgard but I'm terrible at geography so that's not hard to believe. You sound British so Asgard must be in the UK then. I'm Simarra of..." she realized that aside from her name, she didn't know anything else about herself.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what city I hail from so I guess Earth will have to do," she said with a smile and a laugh that slowly died on her lips when she saw the expression on his face.

"Simarra; Asgard is a realm, not a city and Earth is also part of a realm called Midgard." He watched as confusion marred her beautiful features, but continued on. "But I don't understand how you could possibly be from Earth."

"What do you mean? I mean, I may not know what city I'm from right now, but I know that I'm from Earth...I know what planet I'm from!"

"If that's true, then how is it that you're out here who knows where, with me?"

At this question, they just looked at each other because neither of them had an answer.

***

"Loki, how long can you go without food or water?"

"I don't know, I've never really tested the theory but since I met you I've thought about food and drink less and less," he replied with that charming smile.

She couldn't help but return his smile, and try to tamp down her feelings. She was starting to worry about him; he was starting to look thin, well in his case thinner.

"I am worried about you, but I can't say that I'm sorry that we met. I was terribly lost and lonely before I found you," and you are quite handsome and devastatingly charming, she thought to herself.

"Simarra, I surely would've gone mad by now if it weren't for you. If only I could kiss your hand to show my gratitude."

"If only," she smiled.

"So you really don't know why you're out here then?"

She tried again to remember something, anything but as usual nothing came to her.

"I really don't. I'm not entirely sure that Simarra is my name, I just feel very strongly that it is. The only think that I

know

is that I'm from Earth. I don't know what I'm doing out here or how I'm going to get back," she said in exasperation.

"First of all, you're not really out here...well, you're body isn't..."

"What are you talking about?!" If they'd been on solid ground, Simarra would've gone from about five feet away from him to within 6 inches. It happened so fast, she startled both of them.

"You see darling, I'm flesh, blood, and bone; I can't do that - not our here anyway. I suspect that your life energy is a bit detached from your corporeal form..." the wide-eyed look she gave him stopped him from continuing.

"Are you saying that you think I'm...dead?" she asked in a low voice, afraid that if she said the words too loudly that act alone might make them true.

"No, that's not what I think at all. Simarra, I can see you but I can also see through you. You're here with me but I think your body is somewhere else, I guess its back on Earth. You may live on Earth, but I don't think you're human. I don't think you're dead, not at all and I wish that I could touch you very much; if for no other reason than to hold you and let you know that I believe that you're going to be alright."

She looked into his eyes, and he watched as trails of sparkling light ran down her cheeks. He knew that she was crying, and he also knew that he felt something for her that he'd never felt for any of the other women he'd been with before.

Simarra was a sight to behold, even in her semi-transparent state. With his limited interaction with human women; he'd seen that most of them were on the short side, but he would have to guess that a standing Simarra would have to be at least 5'9" and a healthy 165 pounds. Her skin looked to be anywhere from a milk to a dark chocolate, with matching almond shaped eyes. Simarra's mouth looked larger than normal, with full lips and when she smiled one would be hard pressed not to smile along with her, and her ethereal hair would have to be past her shoulders; black with caramel highlights constantly floating around her face, Loki's feelings were intensifying for her with each passing moment.

"I can't be dead Loki. Dead people don't make new friends, dead people don't have feelings do they?"

She looked up at him and he was agreeing with her by shaking his head no. Considering her proximity, she decided to try something while speaking to him.

"Dead people can't touch the people they've come to care about," she picked up her hand as Loki looked on, and she touched his chest. To both of their surprise, she felt his chest and he felt her hand. She jumped at his sharp intake of breath, and he reached up and took her hand into his own and held it to his chest, while he reached around her waist with his other hand and pulled her close to him into a hug. She relaxed into the hug as they drifted together for a few silent moments.

"If you were dead, we definitely couldn't do this. It also proves my point as well."

She didn't even look at him, she just left her forehead pressed against his cheek when she asked,

"What point would that be?"

"If you were human, we absolutely couldn't do this. Now we need to find a way to reunite your life force with your body, and figure out why this happened and who and what magnificent creature you really are..."

"And what happens to you," she asked while pulling away to look up at him. She realized in that moment that the thought of him being alone was worse than her being dead. "I don't want to leave you all alone."

Loki smiled his smile and put his hand under her chin. "I will find you. No matter how long it takes, no matter what I have to do; I will find you my love."

Simarra's eyes widened at his admission and then Loki pulled her close again and brushed her lips with his own. It was a tingly sensation, but one that she wanted more of and she ran her fingers through his hair as he gripped hers to deepen the kiss. As he slipped his tongue into her mouth, he was assaulted with a jumble of images; a vehicle, the sense of being jolted and spun around, being cut and then seeing a poorly disguised angel carrying a baby bassinet before he heard Simarra scream.

"Loki! What's happening?!" She was crying as her body shook and she doubled over in pain, and before he could reach for her; she disappeared. He looked around frantically but she was nowhere to be found.

"SIMMMAAAARRRAAAAA!!"

He was alone again, but this time he would be driven to the brink of madness before he would find what would be disguised as salvation.

**********

1.5 years later

Simarra sat outside of the Parisian café and watched the people walk by. The young couples obviously in love, enjoying the "City of Love" and the people just seemed happy to be alive. She used to long to have that feeling again, those feelings again, but since Brian and Joey had been cruelly taken from her; the only function that her heart provided was pumping the blood necessary to keep her alive.

Simarra had been an emotional zombie for the past year and a half.

She'd shut out her family and friends after the accident, went through the grueling healing and rehabilitation process on her own, and once she was able to return to work; put in for an assignment abroad. She worked at least 60 hours a week, worked out about 15 hours a week, and spent the rest of her time either eating or sleeping. Simarra wished that she had died along with Brian, Joey, and her faith, but she was cursed to exist on this godforsaken rock.

Simarra looked at the scar on her left ring finger; where the symbol of her love had saved her life while almost severing her finger, when she went to pick up her croissant to take another bite. The times when her heart ached and tears burned her eyes were far behind her. The memories of the years they'd spent together started to succumb to being hidden away in the far recesses of her mind, and she could almost forget his face - the sharp lines, thin red lips, jet-black hair, and those heavenly blue-green eyes.

She could almost forget his face, but she could never forget his face.

***

The sky went dark, and the wind started blowing ferociously completely out of the blue. The day had been beautiful, sunny, and calm and now it was threatening to burst forth something wicked. The clouds collected so quickly that they blocked out the sun, and for a moment; the city went black. There was a loud crack and a lightning strike the likes of which she'd never seen. It was linear and cylindrical, more like a tube of light instead of the run of the mill lightning, and it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared, but something was left in its wake. Someone was left in its wake.

Something wicked had burst forth from the storm, but it wasn't weather related.

***

Simarra sat still as the mystery man in the interesting costume climbed the steps leading to the large fountain. She couldn't make out his features from that distance, but she knew that he was tall and had a commanding presence about him, and on anyone else it would've looked ridiculous, but he was working the hell out of that flowing green cape.

She noticed that the people who'd been looking up at the sky moments before, were now starting to gather around him; mesmerized looks all over most of their faces. Before she could finish wondering what was going on; he spoke, and it sounded as though he was sitting right across from her, no more than a quarter of a mile away.

"Good afternoon my fair Parisians and visitors to this wonderful city. You all have the distinct honor of being the first in this miserable realm to come under my rule, and if you cooperate; your future may not be as bad as some. If you choose not to cooperate...well, let us say that things will go poorly for you."

She watched as throngs of people walked toward the fountain, and she made up her mind that she would stay right where she was. Simarra leisurely took a sip of her latte and a small bite of her croissant before going back to reading over her magazine.

'Crazy Brits,' she thought to herself.

"What makes you think you'll be successful this time? The last time you got a few boots in your ass, and I for one can't wait to see it happen again" Simarra heard a woman say, and was surprised to see that she had to be in her late 60s to early 70s.

'Who the hell IS this guy, and why is there something so familiar about that voice?' she thought before watching the mystery man throw his head back before letting out a deep, sinister laugh.

"Oh madam, you'll not see that happen again. First, because I'll not allow it, and second; because your life is forfeit," with that he cracked his staff against the step, and a beam of frighteningly bright light shot out from the staff toward the woman, and she was gone as soon as it hit her.

"Now the rest of you can kneel or die! I only offer you the choice once you pathetic humans."

He watched with a smile as they started to kneel; several at a time, when a sound in the distance caught his attention. He snapped his head in her direction just as she removed her hand from the cup, leaving it to sit on the saucer. When she met his eyes, she looked at him with what could only be described as indifference and went back to reading her magazine.

"It is that interesting of a read?"

Without sparing him a glance she answered, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he'd just teleported from the fountain, to the seat across from her.

"Not especially, but I have to be at work in about 30 minutes so I might as well finish now," she stated as she turned the page and adjusted her glasses. "I don't know when I'll get the chance to look at this again if I don't finish it..."

He slammed his hand against the table, and was frustrated when she didn't even flinch. He leaned forward before speaking again in a deathly calm tone.

"Do you not know who I am? Do you not fear me?"

Simarra sighed and looked at her watch, still not looking at his face. "No and no. Frankly, there's nothing that you can do to me that would make me afraid..."

Before she could finish, Loki had wrapped his hand around her throat and pushed her against a nearby wall; pressing his body against her to keep her in place. She didn't struggle, cry, or whimper, and he was becoming increasingly frustrated.

"I could end you where you stand," he said in little above a whisper, his hot breath fanning the side of her face.

"Do it then, you'd be doing me a favor," and with that declaration, she finally turned her head to look at him.

The look in her eyes froze him in place, his face so close to hers their noses were almost touching. She was beautiful, hauntingly beautiful. Her skin the color of dark chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, her eyes so dark brown they almost seemed black, and her hair cut very short and styled with stiff curls and spikes at the top.

He took advantage of their proximity to study her; the smooth skin of her face, marred slightly by scars on her left jaw and the left side of her neck. His eyes followed the lines of her long, graceful neck down to the hint of cleavage peeking out of her white blouse; over her breasts and the dip of her waist, the generous swell of her hips, and the long legs leading to perfectly sized feet in heeled sandals. His gaze lingered on the deep scar that he saw on her left thigh; peeking out of the bottom of her skirt, and that coupled with the scars on her face, neck, and that haunting, vacant look in her eyes told him that her scars were more than just what was visible. They ran deep.

Loki slowly brought his eyes back up to her face, and though she was looking at him; she was basically looking through him. There was something about her that called to him, and he was sure that he didn't like it.

"Look at me," he commanded. When she didn't adjust her gaze, he moved his hand up from her neck and roughly cupped her jaw. "You will look at me!"

She looked into his eyes then, really looked into them and not just in the general direction of his face. When she paid attention to him, she noticed that he was excessively handsome, he was indeed tall, and his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue-green. A very familiar shade of blue-green.

"The lady does comprehend the English language," he said with a wicked, toothy smile. "I was afraid that I would have to take more drastic measures to gain your attention."

Her eyes flashed with some emotion, and then went cold again in the span of a millisecond. Watching her internal struggle made something flicker in his heart. He was studying her face intently when he noticed that her lips were moving.

"What was that?"

"I said, if you're waiting for me to kneel before you then keep dreaming. If you plan to kill me then let's just get this over with," she said with little passion in her voice.

For some reason, her blatant disregard for her own safety and life bothered him.

"Why is it that you're in such a hurry to die? Surely there are those that would miss you," his nose touched her jawline as he spoke softly against the side of her face; fearful of looking into her eyes again.