Here's chapter 2 already because I don't want to get lazy and not update in forever. lol. I don't anything except Crowen and her family and her kindred blah blah blah...


CROWEN

He was heavy with all that stupid armor. It was making carrying him a major pain in my ass. But, on the bright side, he was extremely handsome- His ink black hair a wild mess, his eyes an inhuman shade of green, his skin pale and flawless, minus the cuts and bruises peppered about his face and body. I knew who and what he was. I simply dared not to admitt to him that I did.

I laid him down on my bed, the black comforter cradling his damaged body. I leaned over him as he looked up at me, somewhat but not completely helpless. I looked for any way to get the damaged armor off his body to tend to his wounds, but found none. I threw my hands into the air, becoming agitated. I glanced at him and his smug smirk.

"Can you... um... help me get this off of you? I have no idea how to work this blasted contraption you call armor... please?" He chuckled in amusement and shifted slightly, waving his hand and using a little bit of magic to unclasp the armor. I hurriedly removed the silver and golden armor, trying to be as gentle as possible with the God beneath me. I got to the last layer of clothing and took my handy dagger from my dresser next to me, slicing open the constricting cloth. There was a deep gash in his side and, as expected, cuts and bruises all about his toned, perfect chest. The myths and stories did no justice to the gorgeous God before my eyes. "It's been a while, and I will not be able to fully heal this, but I will try my best to do all I can," I whispered, placing my hands over the wound, concentrating on bringing the tissue and flash back together. I could feel my healing energy doing its work as he gazed at me- a look of shock upon his face. My energy surged through his flesh and blood, draining me quickly. It took a lot of energy to heal a God. My breath grew heavy and I had to stop, looking over at Loki- the God of Mischief. "I'll be back." I stood and went to my bathroom, gathering gauze, alcohol, and medical tape. As I returned to his side, my mind wondered to obvious questions. How and why is he here in Midgard? What happened in Asgard? Why me? I dressed his wound without saying a word.

"Who are you, mortal," a beautiful, silken voice asked at my side. I looked up and found him looking at me inquisitively. I smiled at him.

"My name is Crowen Lilliana Raynewood. You may call me Crowe," I replied with a polite and respectful nod. "I am your most humble servant, Loki- God of Mischief."


LOKI

I looked at the girl with the expression of mixed shock and confusion. She knew exactly who I was. And she pledged herself to me... Why?

"Why do you swear yourself to me," I questioned. She smiled as she walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down next to me.

"You are one of my two Patrons. Freyja is the other. It is a great honor to have you here on Midgard, Loki." No mortal had ever spoken to me with such... reverance. But then again, I didn't often converse with mortals. They were primative and ignorant. I didn't waste my time with them. But this girl was... interesting. I smiled at her with a genuine smile.

"How can you use magic? I thought all mortals believed in science." She laughed as she played with her necklace. I noticed then just how young she was- Around 23 or so. In her early 20's to be sure.

"I believe in energy, magic, science... all of it. I believe they're all one in the same. One must simply open their mind to that possibility," she answered thoughtfully. I looked at her, fascinated with her answer. She was a very complex individual. The fact that she knew magic astounded me.

I took amoment to absorb my surroundings. Her chambers were small compared to the rooms in the palace in Asgard. She had a large boudoir with a large mirror at her bedside along with matching dressers and tables arranged around her room. They were all a beautiful cherry wood with ornate designs. There were large tapestries hung about her walls, pictures of vikings and Gods. Her curtains matched her bed linens- black and crimson. I looked back to her, catching her gaze. We sat there for what seemed like hours, simply gazing at each other. I knew it was only a minute or two. She wouldn't look away.

"What is it," I asked, trying to descifer her thoughts. She smiled sadly, like she knew something I did not.

"What happened in Asgard to bring you to Midgard? Why are you in this condition?" The memories came crashing back to me, making me shut my eyes tight against the flood of images. I didn't anser her, I couldn't. The wounds were literally too fresh.

"It doesn't matter. I can't go back." I looked up at her sad eyes, sensing the emotions flowing towards me. My anger got the best of me. "I do not want nor need your pity, girl," I spat, catching her off guard. She narrowed her eyes at me, seemingly annoyed.

"Excuse me, Mr. High-and-mighty, for being a very sensitive Empath... jerk..." She turned her head away from me like a stubborn child. I chortled, laying my head back against the comfortable pillows. I really needed to rest.


Another chapter down! I'll have more for you soon! Feel free to read and review, mortals! MUAHAHAHAHAHA XP