Lillian's POV

          Do Norse gods bake? Because I'm craving some chocolate chip cookies right now. Ha, imagine Uncle Thor in a pink, floral apron with matching oven mitts.

          Now that would be a sight. I would most likely snap a picture and post it on my Instagram page.

          Wait.

          My Instagram page.

          Dammit, people are going to be pissed that I haven't posted a picture in so long. I think my last one was a selfie of Logan, Johnny and I while we were on the road to finding my lost 'All American Boy'.

          That's a long time....

          Not like Asgard has signal or Wi-Fi though, that's definitely an improvement they should consider. Then again, if they're all like Uncle Thor then they'd most likely end up throwing their phones against the wall or off the Bifrost after five minutes due to overwhelming frustration.

          Slowly sliding off my bed, I do my best to neglect the pain devouring my body as I shuffle out of the room in thin Asgardian pyjamas, a simple yet elegant design of a loose golden silk tank top and pants to match.

          Throwing my hair up in a messy bun, I slink past Sam's bed with the delicacy and grace of a cat, being sure not to awake him from his slumber. He's had it rough the past couple weeks or so, having grown up in his old body his entire life and suddenly that's ripped from his grasp. Every scar on his old body told a story, every strand of hair on his head was how he wanted it, every bone and molecule defined him on the inside and out.

          And now it's all gone.

          Whatever Elsa the drag queen – otherwise known as my biological father – did to make him what he is now.... it's an all-new low. He has no idea how to function in his new body, not properly anyway. Sure, he can breathe, he can blink, he can eat, sleep, drink, etcetera etcetera, but it's not him.

          It's weird calling this unrecognisable man Sam.

          I trudge through the hallways of the palace in silence, darkness creeping up the walls like deadly talons attempting to grasp every last fragment of light possible and exterminate it before it spreads. The grandeur of the palace never ceases to amaze me, and even though I've roamed the endless hallways on countless sleepless nights before, I've still yet to discover the entire castle.

          Loki doesn't even bother to station guards at the doors to Sam and I's sleeping quarters, not like we can escape anyway. According to Asgard, after Thor left to reside on Earth with his beloved Jane – which I have yet to meet – and his newfound Midgardian friends the Avengers, Loki 'miraculously' came back from the dead and because he's now the only 'qualified' heir to the throne, Odin dubbed him the new King of Asgard.

         His illusions are definitely refined, I'll garner him that. Refined enough to persuade an entire kingdom of Gods.

          Upon arriving at the kitchen, I scour the room with blood-shot, sleep deprived eyes, my vision slightly ablur. Usually I frequent my raid of the kitchen later on in the night, but the nightmares are recurring earlier and earlier as well as becoming more redundant, so here I am.

          Making my way to the left hand side of the kitchen – where all the good Asgardian food seems to be – I rub away the last of the sleep in my eyes, trying to decide on what I should eat. I don't even know what any of the food is called, but most of it looks like normal food you would find on Earth, the only difference is that it apparently comes from other creatures here. When Loki tries explaining it to me, all I hear is ab%fcblqx&$3pfbf@he^a#ksdfghjkl*qutb.

          I freeze where I stand, my entire body tensing over and only driving more pain to course through, but when I notice another figure standing on top of a bench and trying to reach a jar placed atop of a high cabinet, all I can do is blink, trying to decipher who the unknown is.

          It's late at night (obviously Lillian) so my skills aren't exactly in top shape at the moment, considering what I'm being forced through. For a few silent moments, I watch the girl on her tip toes trying to reach the jar, even standing atop the bench doesn't seem to be proving much use.

          "Playing hide and seek with the cookie jar?"

          She squeals at my abrupt voice, stumbling back and almost falling from the bench top if it wasn't for me catching her. Helping her upright, she staggers back and forth for a few seconds before finding her footing on the grand marble flooring.

          While she tries to figure out who I am and what's just occurred, I give her a once over. Dark bronze waves for hair, ending just a tad below her shoulder and framing her face perfectly like a portrait. Her brown eyes almost appear black in the current lighting, but the sliver of light peeking into the room shines down onto one of her eyes, presenting the dark brown orbs for display more prominently. She looks about as wrecked and sleep deprived as I, the bags under her eyes almost as large as something Paris Hilton would lug around.

          "I uh," she stammers, her face contorting into a befuddled state "what?"

          She's so young. She's most likely about to hit twenty, but the fatigue gnawing at her features ages her more than it should. Grinning sleepily, I reiterate "The cookie jar.... You playing hide and seek with it? Or does it just not like you?"

          Despite her lethargy, she manages a smile, lighting her face up and even going to the lengths of almost brightening the room. "We have this mutual hatred for one another. I hate how I can't stop eating the delicious baked goods that reside within it and it hates how I keep eating its contents until there's not a crumb in sight. It's a lose-lose situation."

          For the first time in a while, a genuine smile finds its way to my lips, all because of the innocence and awkwardness of a girl I've never met until now. "I can see your dilemma. Although, I didn't know Asgardians baked. Am I right to assume they're cookies...?"

          She shrugs sluggishly. "I don't know, they look like cookies and they taste like cookies so that's good enough for me."

          I chuckle, staring at the jar mocking the poor girl in light thought. Deciding on it, I leap atop the bench and flinch at the prompt action, masking the pain for now as I barely manage to tap the jar from its position atop the shelf, fingers brushing against it a few times before it falls into my hands securely.

          Hopping down and ignoring the ache once more, I hand the jar to her politely, introducing "Introduction gift from your new friend Lillian. Introduction gifts are a thing right?"

          She laughs, her smile radiant as she accepts the offering. "Either way I'm accepting it. Thank you, my-new-friend-Lillian. In return, you can have a cookie from your-new-friend-Adelaide."

          The jar remains extended from her, opened now, as she beams at me warmly. She seems so pure, full of life and forgiveness, as if she sees the good in everyone and everything. All I can seem to do is see the bad in everyone and everything. My trust issues are beyond bipolar at the moment, but something tells me I shouldn't have to worry about her.

          Doesn't mean I won't keep my guard up though.

          For the next half hour, we sit on the island counter top in the middle of the kitchen, nibbling away on the Asgardian cookies/treats and occasionally exchanging conversations about basic things; favourite colour, Asgardian weather, how we both don't belong here—

          "Wait, you're not like, some Goddess or Asgardian?" Adelaide inquires, stunned at the fact.

           I quirk an eyebrow, amusement playing at my lips. "No, why? Am I a spitting image of an elegant, exquisite Goddess?"

          "Just... how you hold yourself I guess, like no one can tell you what to do," she briefly pauses, as if trying to determine if her next words would offend me or not before coming to the conclusion that she doesn't care "and that if someone did tell you what to do, you would kick their ass so hard and far they wouldn't need the Bifrost to travel between the nine realms."

          Laughing, I brush a stray lock of hair from my sight, realising my hair is slipping from my bun. "That's true, but I'm telling the truth. I come from a realm named Midgard."

           "One more thing we seem to have in common," she grins at me benevolently, the two of us enjoying the presence of another woman who provides a friendship we both seem to deeply be lacking in. Don't get me wrong, I've come to love Sam like a brother and the girls back the tower are great, but Tasha was never one to have girl talks with – shocker – and Felicity just awkwardly babbles non-stop. The only girl friend I had in my life which I could have conversed with on that kind of note was Susan, but I guess I never got the chance.

          Until now.

                    ******

          Over the next couple weeks – now leading into a full month of psycho training since I got here – the same cycle repeats itself like Ground Hog day. The only difference seems to be the fact I don't see my biological father at training anymore, another instructor has taken his place.

          Good, not like I enjoyed seeing his ugly mug here anyways.

          While training has proven to become more strenuous, my ability and skill in combat and my powers have increased as well, my own progress startling me. My body no longer acts as if gasoline has replaced the blood in my veins, being lit on fire throughout the laborious exercise. It's become number, accustomed to pain.

          My healing factor has increased as well. Even though I have never possessed the ability to heal at a rate as fast as Logan or Cap, for some peculiar reason it's as if the discipline I've endured has triggered something within me, and I suddenly find myself healing over the course of a few days.

          I broke an arm while sparring with a man who looked like Steve, Thor, Hulk Hogan and Arnold Schwarzenegger combined into one person who then took a whole container of steroids. That is one man I never wish to tackle again... Not like I let him get away unscathed though.

          Strangely enough though, my broken arm healed over four days, the bones fully mended and operational on the fourth day. Loki isn't as ignorant towards my capabilities as I had presumed. He knows more than he lets on, and I have every intention on finding what that is.

          Adelaide and I have made idle chat each night, pillaging the cabinets for food. We have this mutual understanding to not push too far into personal life, or into the fact of why we are woken by the insatiable nightmares that devour our sleep with its unquenchable thirst for our dreams and peace.

          She's the very first person since Ally that I find I can confide in without her treating me like I'm some delicate doll that will break with enough pressure, or that even though I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, that she needs to protect and help me.

          No, she doesn't treat me like that. She treats me like I'm a competent woman who doesn't need anyone's help, and strangely enough in a time where I may need the most help, I find it overly relaxing and am quite gracious for it. The only other people who really treat me like this are Tasha and Jade, occasionally Clint. It's a nice change for once, to have someone who respects your space and doesn't press you in order to 'help' when it's not required nor completely desired.

          "You ran around Buckingham palace butt nude? Then ran into the queen? Girl, you're going to have to give me some pointers, because that's freaking amazing."

          I laugh jovially, my face not as dark or jaded as it was a couple weeks ago, neither is my body as agonising and swelling with a consumable fire. "Well step one; strip down until you're naked. That would be a start."

          She snorts in entertainment, amusement woven into her tone when she retorts "Yeah okay, I walked into that one. Any particular reason why you were stark nude and skipping through the United Kingdom's pride and joy? Or was it just for kicks?"

          "Bit of both," I reply, a sly smirk crawling its way onto the edge of my mouth "but no, I was taken into custody because they believed I was planning an assassination on the queen, when in actual fact I was hired in order to protect the queen. I had to get past a whole squadron of double agent guards without them knowing or they would execute the queen on the spot, so the only way I could do so without alerting any of them was using this new tool a friend of mine Ally devised. It's a watch that disguises the outer cells and molecules of your body with invisibility, but it only applies to living organisms so the clothing doesn't turn invisible along with the skin. So in order to get by, I had to strip."

          "Did you end up saving the queen?" Addie inquires, taking another casual sip of what we presume are some kind of Asgardian soft drink. Kinda tastes like creaming soda.

          I nod. "Yeah, I even took a bloody bullet for her. Funny enough, I'm in the United Kingdom's good graces. Unlike America's...."

          "Ah, don't get along with America then? Another tally to the list of why I like you," she leers, swinging her legs back and forth.

          I know the look she holds in her eyes, for it's a look I've worn far too often for my own wellbeing. Rolling the last of the tension from my muscles, I breathe out a heavy sigh, informing her "I may not be Dr. Phil, but I offer services just as good. If you ever need to get something off your chest or just rant for the sake of it, there shall be no judging here. This is a judge-free zone."

          A wistful air overcomes my senses, and I can't help but feel my guard slip back up an inch. Touchy subjects can lead to fractious violences, even when they hold the best intentions.

          "I've never actually had someone to confide in before, so this is a whole new playing field for me, a whole new game," she shyly admits, absent-mindedly fiddling with the hem of her silver thread pyjamas.

          "Well I guess you just gotta get your head in the game." Trust me out of all the people in this situation to slip in a High School Musical reference.

          Her face is unimpressed, but I can see behind the tough exterior. She's only half-heartedly pissed. "You're so bipolar, you remind me of Wade."

          "Wade Wilson? As in Deadpool?" I ask in disbelief, and when she nods amusedly, I feign a hurt gasp. "I am above that level of immaturity! What an outrage! The only thing that psycho and I have in common is breaking the fourth wall, favouring the katanas for weapons, our sarcasm and capability of not taking situations seriously, how bipolar we can be, our suits being black and red, how we both are hired killers, how we – oh..... well would you look at that...."

          I've never really pondered on the similarities between the Merc with a Mouth and I, but now that I think about it, he could be some wacko long lost brother of mine. Well damn...

          "He's actually my cousin, funny enough. Mum's side." I glance at Addie in curiosity, but I don't nag her into spilling the beans, everything she wishes to share will be on her own accord.

          She sighs, a faint sad smile flickering on her face. "My mum was a mutant, but her sister – Wade's mum – was not. Parents disowned my mum," she cheerlessly snorts "like every parent does when they find they have a mutant child. Wade's mum was the younger sibling of the two, so when they discovered mum's abilities she didn't fully understand what was happening at that young an age. As the two of them grew up, apart from one another, they began to miss each other more and more. Wade's mum always accepted mum for being a mutant, as did Wade. When Wade's mum – Leliana – grew to an age where she could move out and live on her own, she immediately started her search for mum.

          "It took less than two months, for she began her search for mum at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngster's and the Professor instantly pointed her in the right direction. Leliana found mum and the two of them frequently caught up and hung out with one another before they both fell in love with strapping young gentlemen. Story time is over kiddies."

          I scoff down a laugh. "What? No 'Happily Ever After'?"

          She shakes her head. "Got worse from there on out, but that's enough for one night." The writhing, agonising vines of painful memories constrict the happiness and content in her eyes, so I promptly backpedal from the subject, not wanting to provoke a collapse between the friendship bridge we have built.

          "Well, good luck with Deadpool being your cousin an all. Must make for some interesting Christmas dinners."

          She chokes on her food at this, the apple flying back out of her mouth as she just about goes red in the face from laughing so hard. "Don't get me started on that Holiday. He gave me an explosive kitten for a present one year, and the severed head of an annoying politician the next year. The head was filled with candy like a piñata."

         I click my tongue. "Such a Wade Wilson thing to do."

         "Then there's the constant talking to himself and the voices in his head, man that gets tedious," she complains lightly, hopping off the bench and waltzing around the kitchen aimlessly.

         "Well growing up, the Director of SHIELD was like my adoptive father seeing as how my real father was MIA. I was an undercover SHIELD agent almost my entire life, and he had to pretend to hunt me when I popped up on his radar."

          "Why not just work for him properly?" She notably questions, head cocked to the side in curiosity.

          An almost arcane expression contorts on my features, leaping off the bench as well as I shuffle around the smooth flooring. "He needed someone to get down and do all the dirty work that would potentially stain SHIELD's reputation. There are times when you need someone to get down and dirty in the mud so the people that're clean don't, yet when they do get dirty, those who are clean have the audacity to point a finger at them and blame them for dirt that stains the floor. I was that person, the one who had to get dirty so those who are clean and pure did not. While I have had a life full of misery, pain and loss, I would not trade anything to take that all away and start anew, because in the end, I got a lot more happiness than I deserved."

          A knowing glint glazes over her eyes. "Don't tell me you fell in love," she jests gingerly "if so, all credibility towards my thoughts of you being the biggest fourth-wall breaking badass out there would just crumple into oblivion."

          I shrug sheepishly, keeping the light mood afloat. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

          "Please tell me he's at least some tough as nails assassin or mercenary that is America's most wanted," she pleads, staring at me on the verge of cringing.

          I do the cringing for her. "He's kinda... I don't know.... America's sweetheart...?"

          Her eyebrows rise to above her hairline. "You're probably the most rebellious, baddest and tough person I have met, and you're sleeping with America's baby boy? The Virgin of all virgins? The fourth of July stripper?"

          I laugh out loud at her elaborate descriptions, throwing a hand over my mouth in attempts to repress the laughter. "You're like me with the nicknames. You're really growing on me kid."

          She beams at me. "What can I say? I just have that effect on people."

          I quirk a playful eyebrow. "Cocky as well? Can I adopt you or—"

          "What, pray tell, are you two doing?"

          When the cool, crisp and frigid breeze of words slither into our ears in an unwelcomed manner, I find myself overheating in pure anger at the man who dares act as if he owns me like some mindless asset or weapon. Adelaide however, tenses over as fear strikes the very core of her eyes, every muscle in her body as still and firm as a statue.

          Spinning on my heel, I venomously smile at him. "Midnight stroll. I heard the Asgardian kitchens are wonderful this time of year, quality establishments—"

          "I'm in no mood for your immaturity Agent N," Loki snaps at me, his voice coming off as sharp as a thousand razor blades edged with the coolest of ice.

          Agent N? What is this? Men in Black?

          "We can't sleep," Adelaide speaks up, and while the glimmer of fear is still present in her eyes, she's determined to not back down against the menacing man that is my father. Gutsy as well. She's certainly getting into my good graces.

          His eyebrow arches. "And?"

          I snort at him. "And you're a dickhead with a butt load of product in your hair. Now that that's clarified, why don't you go build a snowman outside and let it go? You know, allow your hair to blow in the wind as if it's a L'Oréal or Victoria's Secret photoshoot—"

          "Your jibes aren't welcome at this ungodly hour Lillian," Loki sneers civilly, holding himself upright with the poise of a God. (Me: Maybe because he is a God.... Lillian: Shut up, I'm telling a story.)

          He's not adorned with his typical armour; I'm quite surprised he doesn't sleep in it to be honest. Instead, he's wearing simple thin silk pyjamas, the darkest emerald I have yet seen. It really makes his hair and skin pop. Someone knows how to work fashion and colours.

          "Well your face and you in general isn't welcome at any hour but yet, here we are," I open my arms wide, gesturing to the room around us "Oh," I hold a finger up, as if to point out one more point "and stop interrupting me. It's the height of rudeness."

          He chuckles darkly. "You forget your place."

          Daring him, I take a louring step forward. "And you forget your's."

          "Just because you are a king, doesn't mean you rule everything. You rule a land, not the people who live in it. They're supposed to be able to come and go as they please," Adelaide scowls at him, a livid expression painting her usually delicate features.

           When a scheming look finds itself onto his face, I almost take a step back in anxiety, my breath hitching when he reveals his proposition to us.

          "Very well. You dare defy your king, you face the consequences," He pivots on the heels of his feet, idly strolling back towards the entrance as he throws the last of his command over his shoulder "you've got six hours to rest up and prepare yourself. Your next training session is against one another. Sleep well." With that being said, the sadistic son of a bitch leaves us alone once more, the temperature of the room cooler than what it was before.

Sup ya'll. How have you guys been going? All good? Or do I need to visit your individual countries and threaten an asshole who's mistreating you? *mama bear mode activated*

On a more serious note (who am I kidding, that word isn't even in my dictionary) who likes Adelaide? I wanted Lillian to have another girl friend on which she can depend on like a sister now that Ally is gone, and while she has Sam you always need someone of your gender which may be able to better understand you and what you're going through (that's my own opinion, so no judging).

I'll be posting the Q&A next chapter I think, mainly because there are so many questions and I'm slowly trudging through it XD

Oh, and guess who got a boyfriend for the very first time? *points at self* This chick did! Like, I don't even know how I got him, I'm one of the weirdest and most awkward people you'll meet (and he's three years older than me) yet I've landed this guy who is literally Steve Rogers. He's a gentleman, he's sweet, he's got manners, he's into Marvel + DC and he's got the muscles of Hawkeye at the age of 18 so he's gonna have Cap muscles as he grows if he keeps it up at this rate.

Sorry about that.... I just got excited couldn't stop my fingers from typing.... ya'll are the first group of people to know though, considering I haven't been to school since he asked (cuz he asked on a weekend).

Anyways, QOTD right?

QOTD: Favourite type of candy?

AOTD: Anything sour. Dear god I have a sour worms addiction and it's more threatening than marijuana or alcohol.

Thanks for reading and that's all for now, bye! :) xxx

~T.L