A/N: So I have hopped aboard the Loki fan train, and so far I have no regrets. I had no idea Tom Hiddles could be so damn fine until I saw him in the second Thor movie. Hence where this short story takes place. I wanted to take Loki's time out in the second movie and add a twist to it. While Asgard is slowly turning to shit, he's out his own problems in his cell. Can you imagine him sharing his confined space with someone else? And that person is a girl? I think it would be a damn good time. Lol. Anyways, Thyliase and her world are made up. So instead of it being the nine worlds I suppose there are ten now and that's including hers. This is supposed to follow the flow of the movie and it shouldn't be too long. If you don't like it, don't read it. But if it is a pleasing read, please, drop a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own.

I Write Sins, Not Tragedies

1.

The day had started out so promising.

This was a bitter sweet thought, especially now as he stared at the elegantly coiled reptile that now sat in the corner of his cell.

His cell.

This was supposed to be his space, but not anymore according to his mother.

'It is like she is trying to kill me slowly.' He allowed the thought to humor him. Frigga always had a nag for –unique- punishments when it came down to her youngest son, but this was by far the worst for many reasons. One of which being the god didn't like snakes.

In fact, he hated them.

They were the bane of his existence.

And this one was taunting him. Watching him.

It's cold, dark, beady eyes stared him down from the safety of the corner across the all white cell. And considering it was a silver snake, the pale gray scales of its body blending in to its surroundings almost perfectly, had his mother's name written all over it.

He took a step.

The snake's head followed him.

Another step.

Another turn.

"Alright this is getting ridiculous," He spat aloud. Loki had had more than enough of… whatever it was for one day. "I am a prince of Asgard, who am I to let some mere animal get the best of me?"

The snake slowly uncoiled, gliding slowly across the white tile on its belly. The god took a cautious step back, watching the wretched creature carefully. It slowly began to morph, silver scales once set in a tightly woven pattern now spacing themselves out as the serpent grew in size. From a rope of thick muscle to the lithe silhouette of a being. A dark brow arched amusedly against pale skin.

"My, my… what have we here mother?"

The formation of feet and toes, legs, thighs, wide set hips, ample breasts- just what in the hell was going on Loki didn't quite know himself but the entire display had his attention completely.

Corkscrew curls, tight and midnight in color, fell from the base of the scalp. Perfectly synced with the formation of supple lips, an angelic facial structure, and almond shaped eyes- an exquisite blend of browns, all of which accented her set copper complexion. Along the lining of her bust, legs, and back lay the silver scales that once covered her serpent form.

"Am I s-s-s-still an animal, Loki of Asgard?" Her voice was soft, like silk, as her eyes narrowed onto him.

"Just what kind of trick is this?" Loki was at a loss, though his stoic expression gave little of this away. As the god of trickery there was nothing anyone (with the exception of his mother) could put past him. Nothing he couldn't wave a hand and simply get even with. But this?

This shit right here?

This left him all but speechless.

"This is no trick," She replied simply. "As the god of mischief I would hope this-s-s-s would be clear."

She was mocking him.

The witch…

Snake…

Whatever she was… she was mocking him. And it made his blood boil.

"Your name." He demanded.

"Pardon?" Her head tilted, causing the mass of dark hair on her head to shift.

"Your name, witch, what is it?" He was growing rather tired of her presence quickly. He was sure to bring this up to his mother the next time she dropped in for a chat. He wasn't finding her little joke funny at all.

"My name is Thyliase, of Xaneom."

"Thyliase of Xaneom, what are you doing on Asgard and why are you in my jail cell?" Loki questioned impatiently. Women didn't travel alone; they were always accompanied by their mates or families but never alone. And Xaneomians were of the chosen few that decided their days were best kept peaceful if they dealt very little with everyone else.

"Why else would I be in a jail cell?" Thyliase countered incredulously.

"Do not answer my question with a question."

"I committed a crime."

"You lie."

"I do not."

"Yes. You do." Loki pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. His mother was trying to drive him mad.

Well… madder.

Thyliase seated herself on one of the two elegantly made chairs in the cell, her legs crossing in a manner that caught the frustrated god's attention. She was extremely pleasing to look at, and he wasn't just saying that because the women of Asgard were too focused on his brother to give him the time of day. No, this was a given fact that even his eyes couldn't deny. She was small in stature but not so much so that he would underestimate her skills to defend herself. Her body filled out with just enough muscle in just the right places, which he chalked up to being a serpent shifter. He could tell she spent a good majority of her time in her animal form, which would explain the constant hiss that came with her annunciation of words that contained s'. The scales… well he could ignore the scales. They covered close to nothing anyway, the witch was all but naked and it bothered her none and certainly not Loki himself.

How long had it been since he shared his bed with another?

One…

Two…

Three hundred or so years?

Well no matter, he had done plenty of things to occupy his time.

Granted they had all failed, he at least wasn't worried about his constant sexual frustration. His hand could only do so much for him after all. And if things just so happened to sway the shifter to his bed, he certainly wouldn't deny her a good time.

Anyways, there had to be a reason behind his mother throwing the shifter into his cell of all places. Just what was she thinking? Loki still couldn't figure her out after all these years.

Thyliase watched with mild interest as the imprisoned god resulted to pacing to vent his more than obvious disapproval of his new (and rather unwanted) cellmate. For a naughty little god he was quite pleasing and handsome to look at. He stood tall, like she knew was a common trait among all asgardian males, except he wasn't brawny like the few she'd passed with the queen on their way to his cell. He was pale in contrast to their golden hew. His hair long, unkempt and black, unlike their blonde and trimmed.

His mother was right, he was a real piece of work, she noted.

'Xaneomian women are quite beautiful, exotic. Many a few can compete with them in the ten realms, hence why I am summoned you here.' She recalled the brief words she exchanged with the queen of Asgard herself as soon as she arrived to the palace.

'I am unsure of what it is I am supposed to do, Queen Frigga.'

The woman turned kind eyes onto the shifter, a small yet kind smile forming on her rose painted lips. 'My son is on the verge of losing himself completely. To others he seems too far gone, but a mother knows her child. And my son is still in there somewhere. I cannot convince his father to release him, so I have to work with what I've got.'

Frigga sized her up slowly, yes. She would do just fine.

'Just… keep him company, dear child. That is all I ask of you.'

"So tell me, Loki of Asgard. What havoc did you cause to be put away? The last time I checked princes kept themselves out of trouble."

She was doing it again.

Mocking him.

Her voice warm like the sun upon chilled skin.

Loki paused briefly in his steps to glare at the girl, to which she only blinked in response.

"Don't tell me it was you whom tried to take over Midgard and failed… twice if I recall correctly."

Loki felt his brow twitch irritably, remaining silent.

"And now here you are with me, how lucky am I."

"You will try your best not to mock me, witch." He warned.

"Oh? And what is it you will do to me if I do not wish to stop?" She challenged coolly. There was something akin in her dark eyes, something that burned like the mischief in his own. She didn't fear him, showed no intimidation towards him.

Just what in the flying hell…?

There were quite a few things he'd like to do to her if she didn't stop, but the line between logically causing her hell and bodily lust were slightly blurred. His thoughts were interrupted as she got to her feet, choosing to lie upon the small cot that acted as his bed. Her body slowly slid atop the satin linens that covered the soft cushion, stretching out like that of a feline upon its master's lap. She took to resting upon her belly, her rear slightly raised as it swayed slowly, playfully, her hands resting beneath her chin.

"Since we are going to be here a while, how about we get to know each other?"

He felt any and all control being slowly pulled away from him.

Yes, the day had started out so promising.