Of Greater Sires

He left regularly after that night, and Raeyn assumed that it wasn’t simply for his realm. Several times she would hear his quick, quiet footsteps down their hall and catch a whiff of alcohol after he had passed. While he was out, she would (foolishly, she thought to herself) begin conversations with JARVIS, who seemed to favor the girl, although he claimed that he was programmed to be unbiased.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, JARVIS,” she complained loudly one morning as she tried to convince herself that she had not just waited by the door to hear Loki pass.

“Well, at the moment, you are lying prostrate on your bed. Earlier you read The Great Gatsby for the fourth time, and before that you redecorated your room.”

Raeyn groaned, rolling over to face the stars she had recently painted on her ceiling. The largest one caught her eye immediately, the one she had designated to represent Asgard. Always there to remind her that she truly did have a home.

“You know what I mean,” she said softly. “It’s been almost a thousand years and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“What are your interests, Ms. Raeyn?” She lifted an eyebrow delicately towards the ceiling.

“I’m rather good at painting...”

“Well, I think that’s something to start with,” JARVIS said almost happily, and then proceeded to open her door. “Right this way, Miss Raeyn, I think I have something to show you.”

Raeyn stood, quite surprised, and straightened her dress before blindly following JARVIS’ voice down the hall and to the elevator. Once there, it dinged open at level seven. Almost instantly, Raeyn slammed her palm on the “door-close” button; she had made sure to locate it after her incident.

“Are you trying to kill me, JARVIS?” she whisper-yelled.

“Of course I mean no harm, Miss Raeyn. The level is quite vacant, I promise.”

She took a deep breath and stepped away from the buttons. “Are you sure?”

“Would you like for me to do another scan?”

Raeyn nodded vigorously. “Yes, please.”

JARVIS was silent for only a few moments before his voice filled the elevator once more. “I have scanned the entire level once more, including all air ducts and alternative passage-ways. No one is present.”

Raeyn nodded, collecting herself once more. “Are you ready, Miss Raeyn?”

Swallowing, she nodded once more. “Yes.”

The doors slid open, and taking a deep breath, Raeyn stepped forward. JARVIS was correct, there was not any one in sight. There were, however, several empty canvases as well as the walls spray painted many different colors.

“What was this used for?” she asked, walking around the perimeter of the warehouse looking room.

“Ms. Potts had it built when she expressed an interest in painting,” JARVIS replied. Raeyn was scared to ask what happened to the woman, so she refrained.

“This doesn’t look like the painting that I’m used to,” Raeyn said absent mindedly as she peered around the rest of the room. In the center sat a table with posters, knives, and a lot of different colored cans. After a moment, the name “spray paint” came to mind as one of the modern ways to paint.

“I believe that it was used by Ms. Potts with stencils as some kind of calming or stress therapy.”

Positive that it couldn’t compare to her old fashioned way of painting Raeyn lifted a light green can off the center of the table and pulled the cap off. Walking over to one of the many empty canvases, she pointed it, and pressed the top. It sprayed the wrong way, ending up ruining the dress she was wearing and getting in her mouth. Coughing and spluttering, she tossed the can down to try and wipe the taste out of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Would you like me to get you a shirt that you can use and dirty, Ms. Raeyn?” JARVIS asked calmly, as if he hadn’t witnessed her embarrassing encounter against the spray paint can.

“Yes, please,” she spluttered, and moments later a white tee shirt appeared from a mini-elevator in the wall next to the real elevator.

“I am sorry that it is far too large for you,” JARVIS commented as she slid her dress and corset off and slipped the shirt on. It came to mid thigh, so she didn’t bother with asking for pants. “I was programmed to give Mr. Stark his size shirts while he was working.”

“It’s fine, JARVIS, don’t worry about it,” she said as she picked the can up once more. Reading the side, it said to point in the direction of the arrow on top and to shake before use. Carefully following the directions, she pressed the top once more and this time a squirt of lime green appeared on the canvas before her. Surprised, a smile of excitement grew on her face as she pressed it once more, this time waving it around madly. She missed the canvas quite a bit, but this did not deter her as she dashed back to the table and grabbed a handful of other colors and waddling back to the canvas before dropping them all to the floor once more.

“Why was this floor not turned into something for the king?” Raeyn asked as she sprayed layer after layer, not really trying to create anything in particular.

“I was asked by Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark to not let anyone else into these rooms who would destroy what laid within. They are sealed off from Mr. Loki and his officers.”

Raeyn smiled a little at the indirect comment. “Well thank you for letting me in, JARVIS.”

“It is not a problem, Ms. Raeyn.”

After Raeyn had successfully covered two of the canvases and half of the walls, she cleaned up once more and made her way back to the elevator, happily dragging her ruined dress behind her.

“So what do we have in the pantry, JARVIS?” she asked absent mindedly as the elevator opened back up on the twenty second floor. It was now quite late, far past time that Raeyn would usually be fast asleep.

“Well, let us see... We have the ingredients for a marvelous autumn soup, along with fresh Bree to be baked as a side--” Suddenly, JARVIS fell silent and Raeyn stopped mid-step, swinging around to look behind her.

Down the hall stood Loki, watching her. Caught off guard, his face was completely unguarded for a moment before his wide-eyed, pained gaze turned into an icy glare. She lifted a delicate brow coldly in his direction.

“Would you mind trying to not drag your clothes across my floor? You are getting paint everywhere.”

Raeyn’s eyes dropped to the floor to find a couple smears of green here and there. “Well, excuse me, then,” she replied snidely, yanking her dress over her shoulder dramatically. “I suppose I could have a few of your soldiers clean it up, but who knows what may happen then. Might just find myself in the hospital,” she sneered before turning on her heel and marching down to her room. She didn't notice how he watched her every step until she disappeared into her room, nor how her shirt rode up a little too high when she lifted her dress to carry it.