Chapter One

She awoke, after feeling like she had been sleeping forever. She couldn't see a thing, wherever she was, was as dark as night, and the hard floor underneath her made her body ache as she tried to move. Her head pounded, and as she worked her mouth, she could feel wetness trickle down her chin. She darted her tongue out and tasted the thick, coppery liquid… it was blood that was leaking from her lips. She felt like she had been beaten… at least she couldn't remember it. The air was cold, and she shivered, feeling goosebumps erupt on her skin. The only thing she could hear was the rustling of heavy chains every now and then, and after a moment, she realized that the chains were attached to her. Her fingers went to the opposite wrist, and felt a thick iron band encircling her arm, with a heavy chain trailing from it, and she could feel the same bands digging into her ankles. Her mind was trying to catch up with her heart, which was beating hard and fast. How did she end up here? Where was here, anyway? She couldn't remember anything.

She heard the loud scrape of metal sliding against metal as a sliver of light beamed across the floor. Her eyes closed tightly, and she finally pulled her chained hand across her face shielding them from the brightness. She could see large brown boots, and as her eyes moved up, the image of a large, burly armored guard came into view. She could hear a low chuckle in his throat, as he spoke.

"Maricus, go alert the King… this wench is awake."

Another deep voice joined his. "Yes, commander."

King? What king? It wasn't in her nature to be scared of people, but she had a horrible feeling about her situation. The guard opened the door fully, and looked at her, grinning evilly. There was enough light in the room for her to see now, and she took that opportunity to look down at herself. Carefully and painfully, she sat up, wincing as she backed herself against the stone wall. Gone was her tough, deep brown leather armor and green hooded cape… and gone was her bow and the quiver that housed her arrows. She had been stripped, nearly bare, her undergarments being the only thing left on her body, and even they had been ripped, and left very little to the imagination. Her shackled legs were covered in bruises, muck, and blood splatters from who knows where.

She heard several sets of boots coming down the hall, as the large man in the doorway moved and dipped into a bow. "Your Majesty. This little Elf bitch is awake now."

Another male voice join the other two. "Has she told you anything?"

"No, My King. Not a word."

The man stepped into the doorway, and when she saw his dark silhouette backed by the light from the hall, she gasped loudly, pulling her legs into her chest, and burying her face in her knees. She began to speak very quickly in a language Loki could not understand. He moved forward and approached her, heavy black boots that gave way to very long, leather clad legs. He knelt in front of her and took in the pitiful sight before him.

"Why are you so scared of me, young Elf?" Loki asked. He could barely hear her reply from between her knees.

"You have horns… you're a… a… demon!"

Loki chuckled. "Oh… no, this is my helm. I assure you, I am no demon. See?" His slender fingers grasped the sides of his golden helm and removed it, placing it on the ground beside her. She peeked out from the side, and saw that he was just a man.

"Guard, where are her clothes?"

"We stripped her, Your Majesty. We thought it might make her talk."

Loki rolled his eyes. "You apprehended her, where did all of these bruises and cuts come from? I know they weren't there when I was alerted of her arrival."

"The other guards… they just wanted to have some fun with her, Your Majesty. It's not very often we get a pretty little elf down here in the dungeon. Who was I to stop them?"

Loki's jaw clenched as he looked at the beautiful, young Elf who was filthy, trembling, traumatized and frightened.

"Go to the launders, and get a servant's dress for her." Loki ordered. The guard, however, stood anchored in the same spot. "Immediately, you swine!" The Elf jumped as Loki's roar echoed off the cell walls. The guard disappeared down the hall, as Loki spoke to her.

"What is your name?"

She lowered her eyes to the floor, digging her toes into the red dirt that lined her small enclosure.

"I know you can hear me, Elf. Look at me."

Timidly, her eyes fluttered up to his. She could tell he was beginning to get angry.

"I asked you… what is your name?"

"Kalah."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Where are you from, Kalah? Why are you here?"

"I don't even know where I am." She said with honest defiance.

"You're in Asgard. The guards intercepted you in the North Woods, riding toward the palace on a white wolf."

Kalah cried out. "Adlan! Where is my wolf?"

Loki sighed, he was becoming exasperated. "The guards killed him. When they apprehended you, your wolf attacked them, trying to protect you. He killed one of my men, so they made swift work of him."

Tears began to well in her eyes, as fiery rage began to build in her chest. "I am an Elven Huntress! Adlan was my hunting partner and protector! What have you done?"

Loki was only getting angrier. She was diverting the attention from his questions, and had the nerve to yell at him. Him! How dare she? His hand snaked into her long silver hair, tangling it into his fist, and yanked her head back sharply, making her hiss. His face inched toward hers, until he could feel her ragged breath on his lips.

"I don't think you know who you are talking to… Elf. I am Loki, of Asgard."

She tensed at his words. She had heard of him, he was Odin, the All-Father's youngest son… and he was a lying snake.

"Ah, I see you have heard of me." A mischievous grin spread across his pale face. His grip in her hair tightened, making her neck bend back further than she thought possible. "Now, why are you here? You had a note tucked into your shirt that was addressed to the King of Asgard. Tell me who sent you."

"If my note was addressed to the King, then I will only speak with the King."

"I am the King, you insolent girl! Odin has fallen into the Odin-sleep, and fortunately for me, my brother is on Midgard, doing who knows what. You will talk to me. Your note said a war was coming to Asgard, but didn't express whom was bringing that war, or when we should expect it. Who sent you?"

The pain on her head and neck was becoming unbearable. She honestly had no memory of where she came from, or what she was sent to do. She vaguely remembered her trip here. She recalled being sent on a mission, digging her fingers into the fur of her large white wolf, Adlan, and riding for days, stopping at night to hunt and eat, and drinking water out of the beautiful Asgardian streams. She had no recollection of who had sent her, or why. She felt like she had been under some kind of spell, and was just now awakening. Maybe she had completed her mission just by arriving at the palace and delivering the message… maybe it was her fate to be killed now, since they had brutally killed her wolf, her only protector.

"I do not remember who sent me! All I remember is my journey here… even if I did remember, I wouldn't speak to the likes of you."

Loki began to chuckle, a deep, demented, scary laugh. "You know, I have my ways of making you talk."

"I will die before I talk to you." She put her lips together, collecting a bundle of spit in her mouth, before launching it into Loki's face.

A roar of anger bellowed from deep within his chest as he pulled his hand from her hair, but not before giving her a sharp push, making her fall against the ground onto her stomach. He took a cloth from his long coat and wiped the spit from his face as the guard entered the room.

"Your Majesty, here is the dress."

Loki took the fabric from the guard's hands and threw it into the dirt. "Forget the dress. Unshackle her and take her to the post upstairs." He stepped closer to the guard, and narrowed his eyes. "You, nor any other man, will touch her again. Do you understand? You touch her, you die."

"Yes, My King." He bowed to Loki as he left the room, still wiping the wetness from his face. The guard grinned nefariously as he wrapped his thick hand around her upper arm, roughly pulling her back up into a sitting position. She could hear his keys jingle as he unlocked each of her shackles before yanking her up to stand. Her legs felt like they would buckle underneath her, and each part of her body throbbed. She was unaware of what had happened to her since arriving in Asgard, and that was probably a good thing. Her body felt like it had been completely ripped in half, and that fact seemed to make the guard happy when he saw she was having trouble walking.

"Feeling sore?" He snickered. "You haven't seen anything yet, whore. Loki is unforgiving, corrupt and wicked. He'll have you talking in no time."

Kalah opened her bruised, tender mouth. "He will not break me."

She felt the rumble of the laughter in his chest as she leaned on him. "We'll see about that."

He led her up a flight of winding stairs that were lined with stone. Were they underground? She could see that where they were now was a nicer part of the prison. Where the cell she was in was dirt, and completely dark, this part of the prison was clean and well lit. The guard led her to a small room that was bare except for a dark, wooden whipping post anchored into the center of the room. She gulped as the guard forced her down on her knees against the post.

He placed his lips against her ear and whispered. "The King likes his prisoners on their knees. I'm sure he will especially like you in this position."

She shuddered at the disgusting contact from the guard, as he strung her arms up, tying a rope around them and attaching it to the post.

"Have fun." He winked at her as he exited the room, locking the door behind him.

She pressed the side of her head against the wood, wondering how she got to this point. Hot tears began to fall from her eyes. She didn't want to admit it, but she was terrified. She had always prided herself on being brave. She was invincible when she had her bow and arrows, but right now she had nothing… She had no idea why she was here, and she was about to be punished for it, but she would be damned if she broke in front of this heinous man, who had killed her best friend.

Suddenly, she heard the lock slide out of it's home against the door, and a eerie creak as it was pushed open. She peeked up through her eyelashes. There he was. A tall, dark, angry god. His long, black hair, and leather armor made him intimidating, but what really scared her was the look on his face. His crooked smile was malicious, vicious, and vile. He watched her as he slowly entered the room, and closed the door behind him. She sat on her knees to the right of the post, subjugated, her arms roped up and tied to the top of the post, making her body stretch much further than what looked comfortable. The guards had really done a number on her, as she seemed to be covered in mud, bruises and splatters of blood, and Loki didn't know if it was her blood, or the guards. No matter. This was all means to an end for him, and he had to do what he had to do. He circled her like an animal that was stalking his prey, stopping behind her as he noticed something very strange on the Elf's back. She was startled as she felt his slender, cool fingers move her hair to the side, and begin to trace lines on her back.

"Where did you get these markings?"

"Markings?"

He knelt for a moment, taking in the design that covered the skin on the Elf's back. The lines ebbed and flowed in a graceful, but curious, display that Loki did not understand. He thought he was very schooled in other cultures and realms languages, but this design was foreign to him. As he ran his finger over the lines, he realized that they were indeed scars, probably put there by the leader of her Elven tribe.

"You're telling me that you don't know where these scars came from?"

Kalah shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't remember anything."

Loki didn't know what to do. If she was being honest, and much of her memory had been erased, it would be cruel to punish her. However, he had known many spies and emissaries that had been very good at their job, acting and tricking their way to get exactly what they wanted.

"You are sure that you wouldn't like to tell me who sent you? It would certainly be much easier on you than what I am about to do."

She began to tremble, as terror began to take over the movements of her body. "I don't remember who sent me. I swear it."

"We'll do this the hard way, then." He whispered as he reached into his coat, removing a cloth bundle of items. He untied his bundle, as he began to lay out his devices. Her eyes closed, but not before she saw a crop, a whip and a cane. "Hm… well, maybe my little friends here will help you remember." He smiled at her. He thought she really was very beautiful, with her pale skin, silver hair, and delicate elvish features. The tips of her pointed ears jutted out from her hair, and her light grey eyes sparkled with tears as she looked up at him, seemingly pleading with him not to hurt her. He didn't know why this young Elf was tugging on his cold heart, but she was. She had been through a lot since arriving in Asgard, and now he was about to put her through more…