The darkness seemed to be alive, a thick mist that twisted and writhed. Dread hung in the air, tangible, suffocating so. Not a sound penetrated this thick aura until a deep, low whisper grumbled out a garbled mess of words. A terrible cracking noise split through the quiet and rock groaned and gasped as they slid across each other. The noise continued for a few brief seconds before eerie silence fell again only to be broken by the voice once more. The tone had a distinct tinge of worship and pleading in it, syllables colliding and blending together in a hasty manner.

As the voice trailed off, the darkness was broken by what seemed to be two eyes snapping open. The irises were a deep maroon, the color of the reddest of wines and the freshest of blood. They were narrowed, staring at whoever the voice had come from. A pause and then, "Who has called upon me?" The owner of the eyes' voice was startlingly light, cool, and airy, no trace of malice toward the one who had disturbed her. The darkness coiled around the being, caressing and hugging close as if it were their loyal servant. And so, they were.

"The Allfather, my lady."

The eyes widened, displaying pleasant surprise and excitement.

A storm brewed above in the skies, storm clouds growling with thunder. Bolts of lightning danced in the air, conjoining into one that reached its tongue of energy down to the surface of the Earth with a sharp, deafening crack. The dry desert earth stirred at the disturbance and dust clotted the air for a few moments before it was swept away by the wind. Where the bolt had struck was a peculiar carving of runes, the lines twisting and overlapping in a beautiful yet chaotic dance forming a circle. In the middle was a far more startling sight.

There stood a magnificent creature-a horse black as night, tall and thick set. Its thick mane shielded it's neck, ends reaching just to the top of its foreleg and its abundant wavy tail tickled the top of the ground. The massive hoofs were shod, the silver mineral glinting as the creature pawed at the air, revealing spikes that were screwed into the shoe. With a toss of its head, the forelock was shifted out of it's eyes and revealed them to be a clear red, matching those of the rider astride him. It was a woman, shrouded in ebony armor with a cloak drawn around the long, willowy neck, hood drawn to cover the hair upon her head. Her eyes shone out from the darkness, piercing and critical as they swept over the landscape before her.

The place of her landing was a desolate place, with only a few scrubs of foliage to dot the mostly dry earth. Curious. She thought as she allowed her body to become accustomed to the unfamiliar sights and atmosphere. As soon as she felt calibrated, gloved hands appeared from the folds of her cloak and seized handfuls of mane, legs closing around the barrel of her mount. The stallion let out a bellow of enthusiasm, hooves cutting deeply into the soft dirt as they sprung forward into a gallop.

The woman of another world clung easily to the charging steed, mind calculating as she extended tendrils of thought outward. She was searching. Searching for her quarry. The Allfather had awoken her for a mission. It would seem that during her slumber, both of his sons had caused quite the stir in the realm of Asgard and Midgard. One had been banished and had learned his lesson, earning his return back to the welcoming arms of his people but the other had not. Loki Odinson, or now Laufeyson as it had recently been revealed by the Allfather to herself in confidence. Odin believed that Loki could still redeem himself, it seemed since he had not revealed his son's true heritage to his people and by the fact that he had requested her aid in returning the God safely.

Brynja did not understand the thinking behind anything the Æsirs did or said generally, as she just saw them as a war-hungry, overeating, festive bunch. All gold, raucousness, valor, and warmth. It was a stark contrast to her own life of darkness where she merely existed until perchance she was called upon or had the urge to seek out entertainment. She was the only born daughter of Höðr, the blind God of Winter and Darkness. Her father had been executed by Váli after he had been wrongfully tricked into shooting her uncle.

A smirk appeared on her face as her thought tendrils returned to her with many a-tale, providing her with a collection of memories gathered from the humans of Midgard that were nearby. It seemed that Loki Laufeyson was creating quite a stir at a dwelling called S.H.I.E.L.D. and had just made off with something fairly important important. An eyebrow rose as a memory flashed through her mind of just what he had taken-the Tesseract! Well, wasn't he on a roll? She sent out another round of thought-takers and adjusted her course to pursue her prey. He had made off in some contraption with a handful of humans. Curious.

Generally, Brynja would be less than interested in any activity that put her in a position to be playing the servant of the Allfather, but since it was Loki. Her smirk deepened as his face flashed through her mind. He was the one who tricked her father. He had caused the death of her uncle and her father. He was the one that made this opportunity worthwhile. How she would love to be in the presence of the God of Mischief, to thwart his plans and gain revenge for his wrongdoing upon her. How Brynja would love to see him squirm.

And that's the prologue. I don't know if y'all like this idea, so I'm just going to put this out there and see if I get any interest.

I don't think she'll be in a relationship with anyone, though she will be aiding the Avengers in capturing him eventually.

C: