All characters except for Leera belong to Marvell. Unfortunately I do not own Loki

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It all happened in a flash. He was not even expecting it. All he was expecting was a trial. One moment Thor was leading the tied up and muted God of Mischief across the walkway into the palace of Odin, King of Asgard, the next; he was hit sharply on the head and began to whirl through a cloud of black ash, spinning and spinning, higher and higher. Loki's eyes widened and he yelled with terror and his battered form headed straight toward a blinding light, growing closer and closer to his doom, his punishment, or so he thought. What was it? Was this the dreaded punishment unleashed upon him by his father Odin? If so, did he really deserve this? And at least he deserved to know his fate before it was cast upon him? Loki shut his eyes, dreading the painful impact of his doom to come, a stray tear betraying him as it trickled down his bruised and bloodied cheek. Loki breathed in sharply and muttered on simple word. . . Father. And then he hit, making a thunderous noise that echoed in the atmosphere, the world silent for a single moment.

When Loki opened his eyes, flashes of light exploded across his vision; a high pitch screech rang in his ears. Was he dead? Sitting up ever so slowly, his head spun, like a severe case of vertigo. Looking around, his vision finally stable, Loki now detected his surroundings. He was not dead, much to his relief. He was however in his version of hell. Midgard. Breaking from his momentary paralysis, Loki sighed. He tried on several occasions to hold Midgard in the palm on his hand, and have all the inhabitants bow before him, and on every occasion, failed. Realising that he was back in the place he recently failed to overrun, Loki sighed. This place had become nothing but a burden to him now. A place he no longer wished to control. The human race was just not advanced enough for him. They could never grasp his idea of 'no freedom brings a better life'. Yet the idea was so simple to him. It would be useless ruling a world with no clue.

Attempting to stand, Loki moaned in pain as a sharp sting ravished his side. Before he could even kneel, he collapsed on what seemed to be a vast green field. How frustrating. Loki pondered a moment. At this pacific moment, he felt like a mortal; weak. Was this really how puny humans lived their lives, Frail; easily broken? Before he could try again, Loki's sensitive ears picked up subtle movements from behind. As he turned his head slowly around, his marvellous emerald green eyes came across a young female woman, standing, watching him curiously. Her hair was as black as night, but her eyes fell in contrast; such beautiful, azure blue pools of curiosity.

Loki groaned and returned to his previous position, rolling his eyes. Great, he thought, another puny human in his presence, just what he needed. "What!" Loki snarled venomously to the woman behind him, whilst rubbing his terribly sore stomach. The quiet woman strode over to the front of Loki and simply kneeled down in front of him, ignoring his intense, evil glare. She opened her rucksack which was now lying on the grass. Pulling out a tray and a flask, she poured out water, filling the tray. Placing it on the ground she dived back into her rucksack and pulled out a few medical sponges. Loki frowned and stared at her intently. What was she doing and how dare she sit in the presence of the God of Mischief without permission. The young lady dipped the sponge in the water and squeezed it slightly, then lent over to Loki, pressing it on his head. Loki hissed at the cold water running across his wounds, grabbed the cloth and threw it, pushing the lady over in doing so. "How dare you, do you not know who I am!" Loki growled. The young lady was unfazed by the sudden lash out. She began to soak another sponge then for the first time, looked into the eyes of the pale God.

"To be honest, I couldn't care less. All I care about it the fact that there is an injured man, on my property and the sooner I clean him up, the sooner he can leave" The lady waited for a response this time.

"Do not care? I am Loki, rightful king of Asgard! You will speak to me with respect you wayward scut!" Loki snarled. The lady looked suddenly taken aback and tipped the water out onto the grass and packed her materials.

"Look you ignorant snob, I saw you out of my window. You fell from the sky and looked injured. I grasped the items I thought I would need to aid any of your injuries and you repay me by tossing aside a helpful hand and throwing insults at me! That water had a tonic in it, which would have helped the healing process of your gashes on your face. But seeing as you are uncooperative and downright rude, you can forget my help. I just hope your wounds don't get infected!" The woman stood in anger, throwing her bag across her bag. Her reaction slapped Loki in the face with shock. Never had any one, not even in Asgard had the guts to speak to him with such a tone. And quite frankly that made him smile. She had a warriors spirit; a confident one. As she turned to leave, Loki spoke.

"I do not like the way you spoke to me, for none have dared to, yet the fact remains, you did try to aid my ailments, and that Is something I am thankful for. If you will, I accept your treatment for my wounds. I do not wish to become a walking infection" The lady turned around and replied

"Gee, that was a crappy apology" Loki frowned and looked away, but the young lady approached him once again and placed a hand under his armpit. He shot a look up at the sudden contact and posed a questioning look. "Look, if you get up, I can take you to my home. I have plenty of medical supply's" Loki sighed and with her help, stood up shakily.

"What is your name, woman?" Loki breathed heavily, pain shooting across his ribs.

"My name, grumpy, is Leera. Now, you need to walk. Do you need help or can your almighty legs carry you to my home?" She replied sarcastically. Loki growled yet again and began to walk forward across the expanse of grass towards a small house in the distance. . . .