A/N: Wow, it's been a long time. Year's in fact. I hope everyone is doing well – extraordinary even. If you are not, then I wish you the best and I hope you get better and smile. ^_^

For my followers, who have favored and chosen to follow me years back, I might not be returning to my anime works anytime soon. As much as I love anime, "real life" people movies/shows have recently appealed to me more. Hence, why I'm writing Avengers (and Phantom of the Opera) fanfiction(s).

Due to my sets and collections on polyvore gaining popularity, I've chosen to post the first chapter of Princess of Asgard (PoA). The first chapter of PoA is more of a prologue – as much as I hate them 'cause I'm OCD and the numbers don't line up in the index-thingy. I'll manage though.

***Fair warning though, the Princess does not and will not have a name for creative purposes. She will be known as "Princess," "young maiden," "dear sister," "daughter," and so on.*** Fear not, she will gain a name in the next chapter! I would, also, like to take this time to apologize if Loki is OOC. Since this is pre-Thor and there is a older/younger sister in the mix, I figured he wouldn't be as... mischievous - at least with her. Remember that these are only GLIMPSES of memories, so who's to say he's... completely OOC?

And, it is up to YOU – the readers and reviewers – who my OC is with. You see, I can't choose between Loki and Steve. Although, I love Loki he is very different from what I normally write. Steve is safe and I'd like to give him a change. (I do have a fanfic idea strictly for Steve though.) Please let me know who you think she should end up with by as you read. I should have an idea by a certain chapter and be able to work out any kinks.

Please read, enjoy, and review.

Memories of the Forgotten

The great palace of Asgard glimmered in the dwindling sunlight. The golden walls shone brilliantly, dazzling the citizens in the village below and casting the open halls in a dazzling golden color. The pillars' shadows hid the guards dressed in black and metal standing in front of them. Their faces remained unchanging to the sight behind them.

Soon. They all thought. Soon, their King will return.

The quiet halls were disturbed by the sound of rushing feet and heavy breathing. A girl, appearing no more than five years old, raced down the corridors. Her long, light pink nightgown was clutched in her tiny hands so that she may run faster than the two behind her. Her soft and long golden hair, which was once tied in pretty pink bows, was pulled behind her as she ran. Strands of it glistened in the dipping sun – perhaps it truly was made of gold or even the sun. Her eyes were the color of the mid-day sky – a blue that was so light, it would appear that birds could be flying in them. Or that could just be the emotions she's feeling passing by. With each quick breath that leaves past her pink lips, another came in, only to leave shortly after entering.

Daddy, she thought happily. She could already envision the tall and proud man she called Daddy opening his large arms for her. She was almost at the entrance. She'll be the first to hug her Daddy!

"Sister," shouted a tall blonde boy, "wait!"

She didn't. She didn't even turn her head to look back.

The boy gently grasped the arm of his younger brother, who was desperately trying not to cry from falling down. He rubbed his chubby arm across his eyes. He won't cry, not in front of his brother. He even left his stuffed toy in his chambers once he heard the news of his Father's return. His older sister and brother were already racing down the hall before he fell and cried out for help.

"Come, Loki," the tall boy's hand fell to grasp the toddler's hand. "We'll greet Father together."

"T'ank you, T'or." The shy toddler tightly gripped his hand. Together they jogged down the long hall; the guards smiled at the adorable sight.

The Princess of Asgard was nearly at the doors! She could see her mommy and daddy conversing; she let out a loud squeal when she saw the tall man dressed in gold armor.

"DADDY!" she screamed leaping into the air with her tiny arms wide open.

Odin laughed joyfully as he caught her, the loud sound resonating off the walls. He held her in the air and spun her around and around, her giggles joining his laughter. Frigga stepped back laughing whole-heartily at the scene before her.

"My sweet baby girl!" Odin shouted, hugging her tightly.

Little Loki was out of breath once he and Thor reached the entrance hall.

"FATHER!" Thor shouted, letting go of his brother's hand to embrace the Asgardian king.

Loki squealed out for his Father, rushing to hug him as well. It had been so long since he had last seen him. Since any of the three small children saw him. Why must he go away so long?

Frigga gracefully fell to her knees to join her family, her hands gently placed themselves on Odin's shoulders, and her lips kissed his cheek. Our children are far too awake now to fall asleep.

...

A young maiden, just entering her years of adolescents, stared down at the courtyard where her friends and older brother played. Although her brother would say they are practicing, she knew better. They were playing. Surely practice wouldn't involve so much laughter and jest. The wooden swords thunked together and the swords hit the metal shields. What would she have to do to prove to her Father that she could be a warrior?

"You are my daughter!" He said, voice booming. "You are the Princess of Asgard! You are far too fragile to wield a blade! You will learn spells in their minority! You will never see the battlefield."

Though he shouted with a fatherly protective air, she couldn't help but add her own mockery to it. Thinking simply that she was female, she could not fight. Sif was proving him wrong on that fact.

"You're staring again, dear sister." A smooth voice whispered in her ear.

Gasping, the Princess whirled around to face the dark haired prince. Loki had grown tall over the centuries, a foot taller than her now. Oh, how she missed the days when she was taller than her two brothers. His hair remained unchanged; still short and black as night. His eyes were a startling light green, and there was an ever present glimmer of mischief in them. His skin was still a healthy pale white; he spent far too much time in the libraries practicing all sorts of sorcery. Unlike most of the Asgardian males, Loki failed to have bulging muscles on his person. (Although, if the Princess wished to remain truthful, she admitted he has a lean built.)

With a huff, the Princess grabbed the forgotten book in her lap and began to read. She hoped that if she resumed her reading, she'll ignore her younger brother and the sparring several yards below and away from her perch. "Yes, and?"

Loki chuckled at her childish act, sitting in front of her on the open windowsill. Her legs were tucked under her in a ladylike fashion, her long and flowy pale lavender gown hid them. He took the book from her small hands. "'Tis upside down." He said when he saw her go to protest, handing it back to her.

"Thank you," she muttered, embarrassed.

"You are welcome. Tell me why you were staring?" he grinned knowingly.

"I was merely making sure that they didn't harm Thor."

Loki chuckled at her statement, shaking his head. "You, dear sister, are a horrible liar."

She glared at him from over her book. "Not everyone can be a talented silvertongue, dear brother."

"Tell me the truth then."

With a sigh, the Princess closed her book and placed it back on her lap. Leaning back she stared back down that the small group of warriors (and a future King) in training. "I… I asked Father if I could train beside Thor this morning, after morning's meal. He said… he said no." Odin's voice still rung angrily in her head. How could he yell at her? He's never yelled at her before.

"I cannot rely simply on the guards and you and Thor to always be there for me if I'm in trouble. I overheard far too many horror stories from the maids and cooks and guards, and I fear I might find myself in a situation such as them." She looked at her younger brother. "I simply want to learn how to protect myself! What if, what if a Frost Giant breaks through our walls and no one's there to protect me! You and Thor know ways to fight and kill – even Mother knows! I only know harmless spells that would have them fall over in laughter!" She lowered and shook her head. "Father… I can tell he simply wants me to stand there and look pretty – a harmless flower that needs protection." Her voice was lost to be a whisper of grief.

Loki looked at his saddened sister and best friend. He could see the tears gathering in her eyes and a frown tugging at her lips. Ever so gently, he placed his hands over hers. Their eyes locked when she raised her head. "Then he is missing a great warrior-to-be. You are more agile and intelligent than a certain rash blonde we both know very well. And if a Frost Giant should break through our defenses, I will be there for you – just as Thor would be. We love you very much. And," he whispered, "I could teach a few harmful spells in secret, if you'd like." He said earnestly, smiling. The Princess smiled in return, beaming. The tears never fell over her eyes.

"Thank you, Loki." She brushed her smooth hand against his face, fighting the urge to throw her arms around him. "You are always there for me when Thor is not. I am truly thankful to have you in my life, brother." Her hand pushed back some of his more stubborn hairs behind his ear.

"You are welcome." A smirk played on his lips. "Now give us a kiss." He jokingly leaned in closer, his hand holding her neck.

The Princess bopped her book on Loki's forehead, giggling. "Stop it."

...

A boy, just in his teens, dressed as a warrior in training, with tears of pain in his sky blue eyes ran down the long corridor. He kept his head down; if he walked fast enough and didn't make eye contact no one would see him. He cradled his right hand to his chest; hiding it with his left. His fingers were slightly curled and his entire right hand was burnt horribly; he nearly gagged at the smell of his burnt flesh.

Why? Oh, why did he do such a stupid thing?

Then Thor heard them. The sound of clicking heels and soft humming – his sister! He rushed down the hall, shouting for her. His sister would be best to see, not because she's closer. Loki would just continuously mock him for his act of stupidity.

"SISTER!" he bellowed effectively not chocking on his tears. He won't cry he was a man after all. Rounding a tight corner – and avoiding two guards – he saw his dear (younger) twin sister. Long, soft golden hair traveled down her back and over her small shoulders. Bright blue eyes stared curiously over her shoulder; long black lashes kiss rosy cheekbones as she blinked. A line presented itself between golden brows and her dainty nose scrunched up. Her back was to him, but he knew her small hands were folded over each other in front of her.

His name passed her pink lips, concern laced in the single word. As he grew closer, she turned to face him. He was right; her hands were folded over each other.

Once he was close enough – his toes touched hers through the navy blue and gold trimmed gown she wore – he revealed his burnt and blistered hand. With an irritated sigh, the Princess gingerly took his massive hand. Everything about her was small, delicate, and gentle; opposite of him – large, rugged, and rough.

"You tried to lift Mjölnir, didn't you?" she looked up at him through her lashes.

"Yes," he whimpered. "Please, do not tell Mother or Father."

"I won't."

A white glow, which emanated from her hands, enveloped Thor's injured hand. A gentle, cooling breeze left past the Princess's lips and joined the glow. His sniffles and whimpers (something he only does in front of his dear twin sister) slowly ceased as the cooling sensation dulled the ache to nothing. His back and shoulders relaxed at the cooling touch. He closed his eyes and smiled; feeling returned to his hand.

The breeze and glow slowly faded away.

"Better?" she asked, her fingers uncurling from his hand.

"Much. Thank you." He wrapped his growing arms around her thin waist, hugging her tightly. "You truly are the best sister anyone could have."

The Princess laughed, (weakly) hugging him back. "Thank you, Thor." (1)

...

The years of gods and goddesses slowly ticked away with each passing day. It was especially true for one goddess who simply learned how to be a proper princess; not being able to learn the ways of the blade or arrow or axe. True to his word Loki had taught her in secret; when all were asleep in their beds and Asgard was silent. Even so, his teachings were not enough for the Princess of Asgard. She desperately wished to fight with a blade alongside her brothers. Yet the AllFather forbid it. In spite of that, in spite of his wrath she may face if he found out, the Princess trained herself with a sword. It started out as such a simple task; go out in the dead of night when everyone was sleeping, go deep within the woods, and wield the blade at the beings she had conjured. It merely started with once a month, then twice, once a week, then twice. Now, nearly every night she when didn't learn and prefect a new spell, every night she goes out.

The Princess slowly opened one eye, searching the area of her chambers she could see from her laying position. Rolling onto her back, she opened the other. Rising into a sitting position, she looked around her empty room. No signs of maids or tricks. Slipping out of her bed and prancing to the door, she looked up and down the long corridor. Just before she began her adventure, she created a fake body of her on her bed. There wouldn't be any disasters while she's away, so long as she returns well before dawn.

Each step she took was light and soundless. The skirt of her light yellow night dress brushed against the cool stone floor. She hid behind thick tapestries and pillars upon hearing confident, patrolling footsteps. Her face often became flushed from the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was a wonder how no one can hear her heart pounding.

With great stealth and wits, the young maiden made to the stables. The giant horses did not neigh or kick at their stalls at the intruder; they merely fell back to sleep. All but one went back to sleep, a white and gray mare whose head poked out at the familiar scent. Much like the Princess, this gentle horse would never see the battlefield.

"Hello, friend." She whispered, petting her long face. "Are you ready to go?"

The mare snorted while nodding her head. Laughing softly, the Princess unlatched the door and led her large companion to saddle up. With quick, unshaken hands the mare was ready to ride out into the dark wood. The grass and rolling hills softened the galloping hooves.

The trees held many secrets. They had seen many things in their lifetime; far more than the gods and goddesses of Asgard. They knew where to find water, shade, food, mythical/powerful animals, and where the Princess trained herself. There were balls of elegant light that sat upon the branches above her; forming a nearly perfect circle of light. She glared at the person before her: a beautiful maiden with long blonde hair with a creamy complexion and bright blue eyes, a sword and shield in her hand. The Princess had long since abandoned her night dress and cloak; to change into leather pants, a tunic, heavy war boots, greaves, vambraces, and a shoulder guard. She wielded a heavy silver and black sword and matching shield.

Metal clashed against metal, swords and shields deflected numerous attacks. The real Princess of Asgard was able to swipe the clone's person, only to have the clone attack back. The pain wasn't unbearable; the clone's attacks simply burned the area. They fought until sweat dripped into her mouth and off of her brow and the muscles in her body ached terribly. The real Princess brought her sword up high above her head and swung down until—

"Sister?" A voice sounded outside the circle of lights.

The conjured person vanished and she sliced empty air; stumbling forward. She hesitantly looked to where the voice sounded. Seeing the silhouette her spine straightened and her heart pulsated erratically under her breast. Thor walked through the white light's line circle. His expression was accusing.

"What are you doing?" his eyes traveled up and down her form. She wasn't dressed in her normal clothes; gowns and frilly things. Why was she dressed in pants and armor?

She lowered her head in shame. "Training."

"Why?"

"So that I may fight alongside you and Loki and the Warriors Three, and that I may protect myself better."

"Does Father know?"

"No. I train in secret."

"I see."

A silence fell between them. The Princess glanced up her brother. They're so close; surely he won't tell their parents. He was oddly silent; she never knew him to be so quiet. Why was he being so quiet? She gently rubbed her chest, heart aching from beating so fast. Her entirely body trembled uncontrollably and the sword and shield laid forgotten on the forest floor.

"I may not be a complete expert with the way of the sword and shield; however, I will train you with them. You are my sister and the Princess of Asgard; you deserve to learn the way of the sword."

She could not believe her ears! Her brother was willing to teach her how to fight! With tears streaming down her face, she flung herself upon him. She tightly wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, "thank you so much, Thor." She kissed his cheek, but flinches at the sharp stubble meeting her soft lips. "Ow, you need to shave, brother." Still hanging from him, she gingerly rubbed her lips.

Thor's laugh was loud and boisterous; the Princess hung on for dear life as it shook her. His calloused hands lifted her high above him – she squealed out at the sudden action. Much like what Odin used to do to her when she was little; Thor spun her high above him laughing overcome with love for her. His love for her ran deep, though they were twins he was (and always will be) fiercely protective of her. No matter how many suitors flood to meet with her and attempt to court her, no man will ever be worthy of having her. Even if they could lift Mjölnir, they'd still be unworthy.

"Thor," she screeched, slapping his hand, "put me down, you oversized oaf!"

Even when she said things such as that, he would never stop loving her.

...

"Tonight," Odin's voice rang throughout the golden hall, draped in red, "we celebrate the birth of my two oldest children! My son and daughter, the Prince and Princess of Asgard!"

Roars and applause exploded through the hall. There were so many men and women in the palace to celebrate their birth; so many in fact that the Prince and Princess couldn't name them all. Lords and Ladies of this and that, they told each other. Surely, Thor wouldn't mind so much attention. Sadly, the Princess hardly left the palace walls; she's never seen so many people. Is their birth that important to everyone? Thor would become King and she'd marry to a Lord of sorts and be a Lady of this. Why must she attend?

Nonetheless, she smiles at the people. Her painted lips stretched far, revealing her white sparkling teeth and adding more color to her blushing cheeks. Just like her mother taught her, her delicate hands were folded in front of her and her back was straight with her shoulders back. A proud Princess of Asgard.

Frigga wished for her daughter to wear a color that matches Thor's cape. So, the young Princess of a few hundred or so years wears a red satin ball gown. The long satin sleeves are annoyingly tight and constricting around her arms. The golden studded belt seemed to restrict any deep breathes she wished to take. Her golden sandal-like high heeled shoes (oh, her poor feet shall not forgive that night), hide under the large skirt. True, she is used to being dressed up each and every day, but her mother and maids seemed to amp it up this night. All because it was her name day.

There she stood, beside her boisterous brother, smiling and thanking people she did not care to remember for their wonderful gifts.

The music was loud and delightful; it rang all throughout the palace in cheery tunes. She danced with many men that night – some old, most young, all loud and large. As she danced, so did everyone else. She caught glimpses of Thor's red cape swirling around and a pretty maiden in front of him. As much as she wished to, the Princess resisted rolling her eyes at him. She saw her Mother and Father dancing and talking to others. Unfortunately, her Little Loki was lost in the sea of smiling faces and dance partners.

Finally, after many attempts, she was able to flee the grand room. The Princess dramatically flung herself upon a bench, leaning against the railing beside it. The night air felt so good on her heated person.

So many people. There were so many people. Too many – talking about her and her brother and her soon-to-be title. Her head and ears ached at all the voices that surrounded her. Or it could be because of her wretched hairdo. She could still hear them amongst the music and Thor's laughter. He would always enjoy being the center of attention. As would she, if he wasn't such an arrogant bas—

"Pardon me, my Princess." A soft voice disturbed what little peace she had.

"Please," she begged, lifting her aching head, "I just wish to be—Loki?" she titled her head. Where has he been all night?

Her younger brother chuckled, coming to stand in front of her. "You wish to be me, sister? I'm flattered; although, I do not believe Asgard is ready for the two of us."

"Oh, hush," she lightly kicked his shin, "I merely wished to be alone for a while."

"Why is that?"

"Simply because I cannot take all of that," she gestured to the loud celebration.

"The people of Asgard are just overjoyed to have you and Thor in their lives."

Throwing her head back, the Princess made a very unladylike groan. "Ugh! That is beside the point, Loki. They come and talk to me as if we were friends our whole lives – I don't know any of them! Nor do I wish to."

People slowly began to trickle out of the palace – laughing and stumbling. Loki glanced at them and his sister. Should they hear her, through their drunken state, something would be said to the King about the Princess' negative behavior.

"Come," he said, gently grabbing her arm.

"No, Loki," she took her arm back, refusing to stand, "my feet hurt."

"Then take your shoes off."

"I cannot merely take off my—"

The look the young Prince gave her was frightening; thus, she took off her golden slippers and stood.

"Very good," he said, looping her arm around his. "Shall we be off?" Not waiting for a reply, he started walking down the steps that would lead them to the private gardens. She always loved walking the gardens. No one really bothered her there. Who would bother the Princess of Asgard when she was walking through the gardens?

Tonight, in light of the celebration, the gardens had balls of lights strung out through them. The fountains strategically scattered through it were bathed in light and flowing crystal clear water. The gardeners saw to it that the flowers would be in full bloom for this night. There were so many that were well known throughout Asgard. Their aroma was so sweet and alluring, the Princess never wanted to leave.

It was blissfully peaceful. No one was in the gardens but her and Loki. The others were too engulfed with the celebration of her and Thor's birth.

"You don't seem quite like yourself, dear sister." Loki's soft voice didn't break the tranquility she felt. "Is something wrong?"

Something wrong?

Everything was wrong! Heimdall told Odin and Frigga about her secret practices with her brothers, due to a scare, and then was cast to her chambers for weeks. She was to only come out for meals, even then no one dared to speak with her. They would feel Odin's wrath if they did. Thor's arrogance seemed to grow more and more with each passing day. Loki had been distancing himself from her and Thor, and he would not say why. Frigga kept pestering her with suitors. On top of all of that, the Princess had witnessed her lover's death – hanged. Although, no one knew of the man's special status to her he was just a mere stable boy. She could still feel his stubble against her cheek and his large, rough hands running down her slim back.

"No." she very easily lied. "Tell me, where are we going?"

"There." Loki pointed with his free hand to a white little open hut-like building, which was draped in deep red colors, flowers, and hanging lights.

She merely nodded her head.

His poor sister. The Princess of Asgard had fallen silent and Loki feared that she was falling to become a mute. Why? Why was his beloved sister acting this way? What Heimdall had done was to protect her! Those buffoons would have raped and killed her had Odin not shown up with an army of guards! Can she not see that?

Subconsciously his arms tensed at the thought.

"Loki," her voice cut through the air like a knife, "did you enchant this? I cannot hear the music." She asked once the stepped inside.

"Yes, I did. I thought you needed peace and quiet."

"Thank you." She slipped from him, choosing to sit on a bench.

She looked so sad and so lost, the young Prince had no thought of what to do. He had never seen her in such a state.

With a gentle twist of his hand, soft and slow music began to float around them.

"No," he said, making her stand again. Carefully, he took out the pins that were hidden in her hair. Lock after golden lock fell and framed her angelic face. The strands of satin gold and white beads softly fell to the floor.

"I refuse for this night to end without us dancing." His hands left her hair and he took hers; one hand on her waist, and the other gentle holding her hand up. She instinctively followed suit; one on his shoulder, and gently holding his hand in return.

"Very well, brother." With the tight hairdo undone and the soft music playing, her headache sluggishly went away. The pins, beads, and fabric that were in her hair lay forgotten behind her, in addition to her shoes.

They danced together to the peaceful tune. The loud and obnoxious sounds of the party were yards away and forbidden to enter their quiet world. It was moments like these that they loved; together and alone with each other. No one dared speak ill of them or mock them.

Loki gently spun her around, and with a small laugh she fell back into him. He closed his eyes and smiled. "Oh, how I have missed that sound." He whispered.

"What sound?"

"Your laugh." He looked down in her bright blue eyes. Dare he say he saw a sparkle of joy in them? "I haven't heard it in months."

She was the first to break it; she chose to stare at his chest. "A lot has happened, brother. So much so I'm nearly stunned by it."

Their dance came to a slow stop, but they refused to let go of each other.

"I fear that this celebration shows how much Thor and I have grown apart." She began to tremble. "I love Thor, honestly I do, and nothing will ever change that. But he's… changed. He's reckless. He's arrogant. I've tried for him to see that, but he remains clueless. He is not the brother who used to pick me up and carry me to the healers when I fell and skinned my knee. He is not the brother that would allow me to crawl into his bed, because I had a nightmare. He is not the brother who scares away strange men. He is not the brother who helped train me with a sword and shield. He's changed, Loki, and I hate it!" By now tears flowed down her cheeks; smearing her make-up that took hours to perfect.

"Sister," Loki cradled her sad face in his hands as if she were a porcelain doll. He gingerly wiped her continuous tears with his thumbs. Seeing her cry broke his heart.

"Why must things change? Why can't things simply stay as they are?" she demanded answers, which he could not give. For once, in his long life, he did not know what to tell her.

He kissed her forehead.

"I don't understand, Loki." She sobbed, grasping his hands.

It's too much. This change is too much. It felt as if her world was spinning out of control and everyone was leaving her.

Loki tightly wrapped his lean, strong arms around her shaking form. She attempted to bury herself in his chest; ignoring the armor on his person.

"You've changed as well, my Little Loki." she muttered, the tears won't stop. "You are constantly studying spells and potions and leaving me for your books. I remember when we used to ride out to the woods' edge and read for hours. You'd have your own book and I'd have mine. Your head would be on my lap as you read, and my fingers would brush through your hair as I read. Now we do none of that. I do not know what it is that you are studying, but must you do it every day?" she looked up at him. That sparkle Loki thought he saw was gone by now. The tears were streaming down her face in rivers. He had become a horrible brother.

"I am sorry," he whispered, nearly choking, thumbs wiping away her tears, "I am truly sorry. After this night, we will spend days together again. We will read together. We will play together. We will be together again. I promise." He pressed his lips against her forehead again.

The Princess shuddered in his arms; she believed his words. How could he lie to her with such promises – with such serenity in his eyes? The tears didn't seem to be overflowing her eyes now.

"And I swear," Loki continued voice hard as stone, "I will speak with Thor of his behavior. I will see to it that you and him, and all three of us, will spend days together."

Sometimes the second born wished that Loki was her twin. She often felt closer to Loki than to Thor. She and Thor may look alike, except their personalities are shockingly different. She often wished she could be as loud and as boisterous as him, though.

"Thank you," she whispered and kissed his smooth cheek. Weakly smiling, she rubbed off her lipstick that stained his pale cheek.

A smell, which was so subtle, grew around them. A smell which the Princess loved and adored for a long while now. Red blossoms took form from the gazebo's roof's edge, they hung all around them.

"Roses," she sighed, inhaling the sweet scent.

"They are your favorite, are they not?" Loki said as he watched a beautiful smile form on her lips. How he did miss that smile.

"Yes. Out of all the flowers I know, roses are my favorite." She walked over to a red blossom and cupped it between her hands – minding the thorns on the stem. "Though they reside on Midgard, I never tire of their fragrance." She gently sniffed the aroma; her smile seemed to widen.

"You are… happy, then?"

"Yes." She gazed at her beloved brother, hands folding in front of her.

"I am glad." He tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear. His hand lingered on her tear-stained cheek.

For a moment she saw her dearly loved stable boy; she brushed her lips against his palm.

"SISTER!"

With a startled gasp from both they tore away from each other. Thor's loud voice shattered the tranquility they had; the music and the laughter returned like an army. His cape was behind him as he ran up to the two, the silver on his armor delicately gleaming in the magical light.

"Thor?"

"Sister, come," he roughly grabbed her wrist and pulled back to the palace, "it is time for the cake."

She stumbled over her bare feet as he took her back. Must he be so rough? Another change in him he, she noted remorsefully.

"Have you shrunken, sister?" Thor asked as he pulled her along.

"No, you have merely grown." She lied smoothly; no need to know about her lack of shoes.

Loki watched his brother and sister return to the hall with a sigh. He would return her slippers to her and leave the hair dresses in her chambers, before returning to the party.

Once the first and second born entered the celebration hall, cheers and applause exploded all around them. Thor boasted and cheered along with them. His sister meekly nodded her head in thanks, heading to the oversized cake.

A small frown tugged at Frigga's lips upon seeing her daughter. "What happened to your hair?"

"Um," she glanced down briefly, "I had undone it due to a headache forming. I am sorry, Mother, but I couldn't take it."

The Queen smiled at her bashfulness. She smoothly brushed back the curls from her daughter's face, chuckling once they fell back into place. "Is it gone?"

"Yes, Mother."

Frigga nodded her head. Their attention went upon Thor as he thrusted the knife high above him. Odin shook his head at his eldest son's antics.

"As a wise man once said," he shouted, "let there be cake!" He turned back to face his sister, so that they may cut the cake together.

Over the course of the night, the Princess ignored the voices of the people she did not know. She smiled kindly and danced with many people – they all fluidly missed her bare feet. Loki seemed to have appeared out of thin air and rescued her; he lifted her up as the Princess she was and carried her to bed. They claimed she felt faint.

...

Run.

She has to run!

Hide.

She has to hide!

Swords clashed together and shields smacked against each other. Fire burned all around her, the dark blue sky was alight with the angry flames. Screams cut through the night air like an arrow. Decay and blood was strong in the crisp air. The monsters attacked out of nowhere and for no reason known to her.

Her brothers.

She needs to find her brothers!

"THOR! LOKI!" she screamed, running anywhere they might be. With her night dress torn above her knees, she ran faster than she ever had before.

Those who fought around her ignored her and were ignore by her. None of them were her brothers. She could see many injured and many die.

She screamed for them again. She ignored the flames licking at her skin and the burning inside her lungs. She needed to find them. Where were they?

The Princess nearly tripped when she turned a corner. She gasped, blue eyes widened in fright. Monsters from storybooks turned to her, their sharp and crooked yellow teeth dripped with blood. A body of a guard laid dead behind them. Their bulging eyes locked on her shaking and burned form. One, who was large and overly revolting, pointed at her. It gargled, "Her."

She fled, screaming louder and louder for her brothers. Tears and smoke were chocking her. She was going to die if they didn't come!

A sword.

She needed a sword!

Magic.

She could use her magic!

Thrusting her arm behind her, she shouted a spell and flames erupted from her hand. She shouted again and lightening shocked them. Nevertheless, she screamed for her brothers. Only they could protect her.

A dagger flew from the flames; lodging itself in her back. She yelped, but kept running. Her white satin night dress slowly gained the color red.

"THOR! LOKI!" her screams were getting desperate.

More monsters – cut and burned – surrounded her. Crying she shouted a spell; killing one with an ice dagger. She began to shout again, only a slimy and calloused hand clamped over her mouth. Its stench nearly made her faint. Its hands moved to her elbows and pulled her away. She screamed and screamed for her brothers. She could not cast spells if her arms were bound.

Over the roaring flames and helpless screams, she heard someone shout her name in the distance.

She saw her father, dressed in armor splattered with blood, riding Sleipnir toward them. The stallion's eight hooves made the ground quake. Odin's aged face was darkened and full of rage. Sleipnir looked as if he was raised from the underworld.

"DADDY!" she shouted. Surely if her brothers aren't here, Odin would save her. She screamed over and over again for her daddy. Each time it felt as if a knife twisted itself in Odin's chest. He would not lose his only daughter to these cretins.

The monster holding her grumbled something to his comrades. They grunted and nodded in understanding. All but one of them stayed behind to fight the King of Asgard and his steed.

"DADDY!" she screamed one last time before the two monsters walked through a portal of sorts. That would be the last time she saw her home and father how a long while.

As the swirling portal closed bit by bit Odin ran desperately to it, shouting her name again and again. His one eye was full of panic that only a parent knows. "NO!" with a last attempt, he leaped and skitted on the cold earth. He looked around helplessly, shouting for his daughter and for those monsters to show themselves to fight like real men.

No one answered him. Sleipnir snorted beside him, the monsters dead behind them.

The chaos that erupted that night slowly diminished into nothing. The flames were doused and the monsters were destroyed. Guards were posted at every door and patrolled the streets in groups of ten. No one, absolutely no one, spoke to the King and Queen of their lost child.

Thor demanded there be blood spilt. Lives for a life, he wanted war.

Loki wanted the same, although less animated about it.

Both were torn and hurt, however they demanded that their sister be saved. They could fight, they said. They should fight! They would fight to bring her back home! The Warriors Three and Lady Sif stood by them; they'd fight for her too.

"No," Odin said and left for his chambers. His wife refused to leave her chambers; mourning the loss of her daughter.

They had their palace sorcerer create a potion, which was poured into the goblets of those who knew the Princess well. Expect the King and Queen and Heimdall. They drank it and over the night, the memories of the Princess faded away.

Thor did not have a younger twin sister whom he trained with a sword and shield. Nor would he remember those days of carrying her to the healers or her crawling into his bed due to a nightmare. They all faded away.

Loki did not have an older sister whom he trained with magic and read with. Nor would he remember those smiles and laughter he loved hearing after a prank he had done to a friend. They all faded away.

Lady Sif would not recall the night she fled to her friend and Princess, crying over the loss of her hair and how ugly the new color was. She would not remember the Princess' kind words on how lovely the ebony locks was and that she would pay a visit to Loki. Lady Sif would not know how many laughs and girlish giggles they shared. Her memories of the Princess faded away.

Volstagg would not remember all the delectable sweets the Princess would make. Nor would he remember telling her tales of his great heroism or the shine in her big blue eyes. He would not remember a gentle voice to tell the story again or him acting it out as he went. Those memories all faded away.

Fandral would not remember his shameless and harmless flirts with the Princess. He would not remember the little giggles and awkward flirts she gave in return. He would not remember her telling him that he must stop his antics if he wished for a suitable wife. Those memories of his Princess faded away.

Hogun would not remember his quiet friend sitting in the corner as he sharpened his blades. He would not remember the small smiles he received and gave in return; she would never boast of her "accomplishment" to anyone. That was why he respected her; she never boasted about anything. Those memories faded away.

The guards would not remember bell-like laughter ringing through the halls or gentle clicking of heeled shoes or her soft humming.

The townspeople forgot about her; she rarely made an appearance to them. They merely thought she was a ghost of sorts.

Odin and Frigga saw to it that her room be forbidden to anyone; fearing that if they saw it they'd remember. Although, some nights, one could hear sniffling and chocked sobs come from the Forbidden Room. Everything was as it used to be when she resided in it. The chair she always sat at for meals in the grand hall – next to Thor – was empty. It was an empty chair at a full table.

Without her, without the Princess of Asgard, the bond between Thor and Loki dwindled and shook. Many things have happened in those short years: Thor was banished to Midgard, Odin fell into sleep, Loki became King of Asgard, Loki told Thor their father was dead and he could never come back to Asgard, Thor did go back though, and, after an epic battle between two brothers, Loki "died." After another set of short years, Loki attempted to control Midgard. Only he was defeated by New York's Avengers: Iron Man, the Incredible Hulk, Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Thor. There seemed to be nothing between the two of them now, and neither knew exactly why.

A/N: So, how was it? Was it good for my first Avengers/Thor fanfic? Please, let me know what you think!

Key:

(1) Okay, to be honest, this isn't completely mine. I was on Tumblr one day and saw a "Thorki" comic strip and I based this bit off of that. Only I replaced Loki with the Princess and did some minor changes. Thor attempting to lift Mjölnir and burning his hand and Loki healing it was the artist's idea. Unfortunately, I can't recall the artist's name and I hope he or she isn't offended that I more or less borrowed this. But please, if you'd like to see/read it I suggest going to Tumblr (or, now that I think about it, Google) go read it. Please, the art is very well done.