Well, I hadn't planned on writing an Epilogue but some of the best things in life are unplanned, yes?

Oh, and there will most definitely be a sequel. Unfortunately, it won't come until I watch the Avengers which is *shudder* eight cruel months away. Seriously, someone get me a time machine or something. I. Can't. Wait.

And of course, I will be making updates on 100 Little Lies with a bunch of one shots and drabbles and fluff all about Loki and Ellie. 3

This epilogue was inspired by two songs. Check 'em out! The Girl with the Red Balloon by The Civil Wars and Hiding My Heart by Adele.


-Epilogue-


Loki

Origin: Norse

Loki is a mysterious, contradictory spirit perhaps the ultimate trickster. His name is related to an Old High German word meaning "Shooting Star." Loki's motives and loyalties are never clear. He is more than a trickster and a plotter; he is skilled inventor, artisan, and a master of magic. He is nosy and extremely observant. Be warned, Loki is known for his malicious streak and vicious, cutting humor.

Favored People: Loki is a patron of spies, moles, trouble-makers, and plotters

Manifestation: Loki is a master shape shifter. He can appear in any guise. Loki, who enjoyed sexual relations with many of the Norse goddesses, is allegedly very handsome and charming when he wishes to be.


Elizabeth Crane ran her fingers over the thin, crackly page of Judika Illes' Encyclopedia of Spirits. With great care, she pressed the corner of page 647 into a deliberate dog-ear. The page dedicated to him.

Several words and phrases had jumped into her head and, like a frenzy of birds, they fluttered about, their nattering wings causing her a great amount of discomfort.

Mysterious…Contradicting…Malicious…Vicious…

Adjusting the large book so that it was nestled soundly in her lap, Ellie brushed her hair behind her shoulder and rubbed her eyes vigorously. Sparks of color, bathed in black, popped before her vision, temporarily pushing the muddles words out of her mind.

Sleep had long evaded Ellie, ever since the dreams started to come…

She never wanted to dream. Not now. Instead she drowned herself in tea and coffee and crap television and research.

Research…Research was the prevailing excuse. She could use it like a badge. Whenever anyone demanded explanation for her strange behavior she would simply mutter "research" and all was forgotten.

Her room, which at one point had been surprising spacious as far as New York City rooms were considered, was crowded with books. Dusty books, with obscure titles and flowing lettering, they leaked age and smelled of an earth long forgotten.

A thin mug of coffee, the heat of it vanishing fast, sat on a tall nightstand just in her reach. On this day, she had woken long before the sun. An old habit that had begun to fade away when she had been with…him. Since the hour she had woken she had buried her nose in the books she had been collecting from any library and hole in the wall shop she could find.

She had forgotten how very much she loved bookstores. The sight of books stacked precariously atop one another. The smells. The cramped space. The darkness. It was a cave worth losing yourself in. And she needed to be lost.

A soft rapping on her door broke through Ellie's cloud of pages and ink and coffee. With a very sudden, very unsuspected rush of adrenaline, Ellie flung her legs from over the stiff arm of the loveseat, and tossed the large book over the of it. She realized, too late, that tossing the book so haphazardly was not her most inspired idea. The book hit the sleek wooden floor with a slamming BANG and Ellie, who was rushing in thick socks over the slick ground, almost slid straight into her door out of alarm.

She managed to skid to an awkward stop and caught her breath up again before pulling the door open.

"Elizabeth, is everything alright?"

It was her sister of course.

Ellie didn't think much about everything that had transpired several days before. What she did remember was wandering around the park trying to understand why…

Until she realized that she would never understand and, with her head hung low, she had returned to Catherine.

The only person she had ever loved.

Catherine. Her sister was the only person…before Loki. And Loki wasn't even a person, was he?

Catherine, as was her way, avoided any tension or emotional upheaval. She merely welcomed her sister home and their lives continued.

Now, Catherine leaned against the door frame. She was wrapped in a pale towel, her and make-up set and done.

"Have you even showered?" The elder sister admonished. "Elizabeth, you promised you would come. You are my maid of honor."

Ellie flashed a sheepish, emotionless grin. She could never get used to this. Catherine Crane, her sister, the bride.

"I am coming." Ellie reassured. "I was just about to jump in the shower."

Catherine nodded. "Well, okay, what are you wearing?"

Ellie shrugged. "How about the navy dress? I'd need your gold belt."

Catherine smiled. "Sure."

She pushed off the door and walked down the hall.

"What are you wearing?" Ellie called quietly, a mischievous smile on her lips.

Catherine, who usually possessed all the grace of a swan, jolted. "Not that thing Olivia sent over."

Ellie sniggered. Watching her sister get flustered was a sight so rare it was a thing to behold.

"But Catherine!" She teased. "It's your bachelorette party…!"


Dargen's was a small, homely little pub off the beaten rack of New York's tourist approved hot spots. On that rainy Thursday night the darkened building, stuck between a , was hardly packed.

This was, of course, exactly what Catherine wanted. She wanted nothing to do with tradition where her wedding was concerned. After much arguing with her assistant, Catherine had convinced her that the "party" would be a quiet, understated affair.

Drinks with the bridal party. Plain and simple.

And just what Ellie needed.

Ellie, unlike her sister, was able to hold her own against the pull of alcohol. It was entertaining to watch her sister's cheeks go red after only two glasses of white wine.

And I was doing so well…Ellie thought.

Her sadness, her emptiness, her loneliness, had rammed into her like a train. Right there in the middle of the bar. Catherine had been retelling the story of how she had met Simon.

As Catherine drawled on, memories flooded into Ellie's head and she felt as though she was drowning in the bar.

Silently, she slipped away from the table and left the bar. A swirl of cold air, hit her face with a painful sting. But it was a pain worth welcoming.

That's when I…met him. Sort of. The last time I was in a bar like that one. The last time I was…

Ellie leaned against the wall, just next to the door. She had left so quickly she had forgotten to pick up her jacket. The dress she wore, was black and had a high collar, and her legs were sheathed in tights and knee high boots, but her arms were completely bare.

I can't go back in there…

It was one thing to be alone, all alone, but there was nothing worse that being alone in a crowd. She felt so detached so far away from the people she could touch…and even further away from him…

Words slithered into her mind, taunting her and tearing at her heart.

Loki, who enjoyed sexual relations with many of the Norse goddesses, is allegedly very handsome and charming when he wishes to be.

Many, Ellie thought, her heart plunging into a poisonous pool opf jealousy. Did the book really have to nail that in? Many, many, many. Many Norse goddesses. I mean goddesses.

She shifted on her feet, aching to run and scream and sob in a most unflattering matter.

Maybe he never loved me.

Charming when he needs to be…

When he needs to be…

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, hardly able to hide her agitation any more. The jack and coke was making her feelings shine far too brightly.

That's not. The booze is supposed to make the feelings go away. Lock em up, Ellie, in a big ol' box.

The little voice, the sneering voice, that flourished in her deep, dark thoughts, spoke freely now.

And you just let him walk away. Because you knew, you knew he would never love you. Even before you knew…you knew he was just using you. Like a chargers. A battery charger. He falls at your feet and you fill him on up and he goes about his merry way. You're an appliance. Replaceable. Temporary.

But he said I was everything…Ellie thought helplessly. He had to have loved me. At least once.

Did he ever say it? Did he make it real?

He doesn't have to say it to make it real…

Ah, because he's a liar. And a plotter. Nothing he says is real. All the books agree. Loki the Liar. You sure can pick 'em darling.

I sure can…

Ellie looked up, hoping to see the stars. But here, burrowed deep in the veins of the city, there were no stars or skies to peer into. Just a sickly orange haze, thick and dense and inescapable.

"Ma'am? Are you alright?"

Ellie sighed. She did not want to be bothered. Couldn't the gentleman see that she was quite content mulling in her own deep dark blues?

She turned her head to the voice, a cocky dismissal on the tip of her tongue-

A man stood before her. He was tall, broad shouldered, and handsome. She knew this man. She recognized him right away. He wore the same tan pants, the same blue checkered button-up, and the very same rusty leather jacket was folded over his arm.

"Steve." She blabbed.

He smiled, a bit bashfully and held out his arm with the jacket.

"I wouldn't want you to catch cold." He said.

Ellie looked down at the jacket and back to his clear blue eyes.

Catch cold? Cold. Everything frozen and cold reminded her of him.

With an unsteady hand, Ellie snatched the jacket from Steve's arm.

"No," she said, slipping it on. It was far too big for her. The sleeves fell inches past her hands and the thick garment felt heavy on her shoulders.

"We wouldn't want that."


So…I sort of apologize. I threw another curve ball in at the last second. I just can't help myself. Loki's trickery is rubbing off on me. *cackle, evil laugh*

Anyway,

Coming Soon (Okay not soon. In an eon or two…)

An as of now untitled sequel that will take place (possibly during) most likely after the events of the Avenger's movie.

Good Sweet Jesus Lord Almighty! Why. Isn't. It. May.

*author goes into the corner to sob and curse and pray*

Also, that Judika Ille's Loki stuff is all real. Real quote from a real book. I got this crazy book who knows where and Loki just happened to be in it. I wouldn't believe any of it but...

Anyway. Tell me what you think! I love reviews! :0)