Loki made sure to hide himself from sight as he quickly made his way down palace hallways and stopped at an intersection. According to reports, she had been heading this way when they found her. And they hadn't been able to stop her.

A good trickster had always caught his attention. He saw no reason it shouldn't now.

The click of boots on the hallway floor floated within his listening range, and Loki smiled to himself. He wondered what she would do if he surprised her. Fight or flight became a strong reflex when startled, and he wanted to find out which she leaned toward. How people reacted said a lot about them.

She passed him with a rush of red hair and a slight breeze, and Loki allowed himself to turn visible again. He cleared his throat.

She spun on him, knives drawn, and settled into a defensive position.

Loki chuckled. "Put them away, mortal. I'll not harm you."

"You're Loki," she deduced. Quick, for a mortal woman. She didn't put the knives away, but rather relaxed and let them hang at her sides. "Last I read, you were a dead man."

"Wrong on two counts. I'm not dead," he pushed off the wall and advanced on her, "and I am far more than just a man."

The girl rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this." She turned on her heel and stomped off.

Didn't have time? Whatever could she mean? He was king, and she would make time to answer his questions. Whether she wanted to or not, he would not give her an option.

He stormed after her. "That is all you have to say?"

"You wanted something else?"

"Plenty of things," Loki purred. She ignored him. Not something he was used to. "A lady of stature would retaliate to that overt flirtation."

"Hmm." She shrugged. "Maybe I'm not a lady of stature, then."

"You are certainly not a woman of low stature, either. I've met those and they throw themselves at me. Can't help it, I suppose. No, you are confident and... well-sorted."

She shook her head and rolled her shoulders back. "Honey, you're barking up the wrong tree. Although, I'll take the compliment." She tossed him a glance, and her blue eyes sparked mischievously.

He liked mischief. However, he didn't understand where she had come from. So he did the civil thing. He asked. "You should not even know of Asgard. Why are you here?"

"Asgard," she peered around a corner, found the way clear, and clicked off toward a large double door, "is harboring someone I really hate. Trust me, it's better if you just let me take care of him and I'll be on my merry way."

"Trust you?"

"Haven't you heard? Redheads are impossible." She tossed her long hair.

Loki smiled and lagged behind to study her further. She was an expert with the knives, occasionally twirling them as if it was an absentminded habit. "Are they? I would love for you to show me how impossible they can be."

She faltered, paused. Then, "I'm married."

"As am I. Happily?"

She snickered. "Could be."

"Pity." Loki eyed her again, taking in the slim form. The flush of youth in her pale skin. He had stolen another man's bride before. He could do it again, if he so desired. "What is your name, mortal?"

She stopped before the doors and placed her hands on the pulls. Ducked her head, then tossed her hair to look back over her shoulder. "My name is Terra."