The light from the setting sun made the colors of The Rainbow Prison shine even brighter. Located in the center of the palace's courtyard, it's made up of the same material as the Rainbow Bridge. The crystalline surfaces of the bars constantly gleamed with different colors, a cage as beautiful as it was useful. Being wide in the open, it makes it really hard to escape. As if they could break the cage in the first place.

Naomi sighed. Why the hell did she have to do something stupid? She had to let her "gut" tell her that this was right, that it was something she was supposed to do.

But it wasn't. She should have never have come in between Thor and Loki. This was a problem that has gone on for as long as she could remember. She would never have convinced Thor to stop. It was only by the grace of Odin that she wasn't banished or punished along with Loki.

Instead, she was given the chance to be imprisoned in this hellhole with him. And he just loved it, didn't he? The god of mischief and lies was certainly having a blast out of what she'd done. At least he wouldn't be able to touch her or talk to her with that voice of his. Silver tongue. That's what they called Loki, and it wasn't without reason. Even though he was tortured and hurt, she still didn't like him.

Surprisingly, they let her keep her black lieutenant coat and her gold dagger. There wasn't much to hide in there; her coat had little pockets both on the inside and the out, the cloth just a little bit thicker for the weather. The fastenings were simple, and the trim was spun gold as well as the symbol of Asgard sewed on the collar. Her hands weren't bound. She smiled. They could have left her without anything and she would have still been able to defend herself. Loki, however, was checked about three times before they finally put his gold and green coat and shackles on. They didn't heal him though, so he was still bleeding underneath that coat of his, his skin starting to scar and bruise.

Oh well. At least she won't be kept here that long. Or at least, she hoped someone would realize she was here with this maniac and let her go. She stood, her back to him, looking out at the entrance of the Great Hall. The sounds of feasting and music were coming from inside, the gold halls seemed filled with candle light. Asgardians were quick to forget their worries and troubles. Instead of being able to drink her heart out in wine with the others, she had to be stuck outside in the cold with Loki.

"I hope to the Gods my commander doesn't strip me of my status. OH. Who am I kidding, of course he will. Good gods, my mother is going to kill me." Naomi tried to fill the silence. It was better than being at the mercy of boredom.

She heard Loki shift, he had sat down. But when she turned to look, she saw him staring straight at her, his green eyes reading her as if she were a book. She saw a grin was already formed on his face behind that metal muzzle.

"So why did you take over Midgard? Or at least try to take over it? I'm surprised that you didn't. Your silver tongue would have been enough, and your magic is probably strong enough to take out all of those mortal heroes at the same time."

Loki raised an eyebrow. She almost laughed. It was one thing being hurt at seeing Loki punished, but her reaction to his surprise was quite different.

Is that sarcasm I detect? I did not defeat them simply because I did not want too. I assume I did not have much fun with them. But I am surprised you are aware of what I am capable of. You should be terrified then, since you do.

She just about nearly jumped. He can't be talking, no he couldn't. You need to move your mouth to do so. But the muzzle was still there. So then how did she hear him?

"Very clever. You know, if you could do this, why didn't you just try to hypnotize a couple of guards to get you out of here? Make them think these thoughts are their own. I'm not 'terrified' of you. I just kind of get pissed off by you, to tell you the truth. "

Don't be silly. Something like that? It's not….interesting enough. Part of my job, as you know, is to make it fun and worthwhile. Besides, you would have still been stuck here. And why would you ever be mad at me? As far as I know, lieutenant, I have done nothing to harm you. At least, I won't until you make me angry.

She smirked. Who could have guessed that Loki would keep his entire "godly" bravado after he was almost beat to a bloody pulp and locked in a cage?

"I still wouldn't have put it past you. Part of my reason to do this, as stupid as it was, was the hope that you would escape. I like being alone. It's more of a psychology thing then, instead of torture. And Loki, if your wise eyes would have seen before you got in, you're not the only one who's armed. Making you angry would be the least of my problems." She sat down, stared at Loki, and then took out her golden dagger, twirling it her fingers. He was confused again, his eyes showed everything. If anything, she was more afraid now than before.

I didn't know I would bring out so much spite in your presence. No one deserves to be alone, no matter the circumstance. I know firsthand. There's an obvious problem. May I be of some assistance? Maybe I might get you to actually like me. Well, not that many people do.

Oh gods, who was he kidding? She would never tell him anything. She sighed. So this was how he was going to get out of this prison. She should have never shown him she was armed.

"And how would you be of assistance, oh good Loki? Maybe you'll cast a spell that will make me think better of myself and you'll turn it against me and then get out? You know nothing of me, so don't try to act like you do. I know it's probably fun and everything, but I really don't like it when people make fun of me."

She closed her eyes; her hate for him was growing stronger. She didn't get angry most of the time, but he was just so annoying. There was a pop and a crackle, and she saw faint green light in the darkness. She opened her eyes again, startled. Three balls of green magic had exploded near the fountain, almost breaking it. Green fire danced in her eyes even after she tried to blink it all out, the after affects of magic. Loki's eyes were no longer confused; they were filled with upmost seriousness.

Magic spells do nothing in this matter. If you seriously think that my plan was to betray you, I would have offered in the first hours that we were imprisoned. I know all about you Naomi, more than you could ever imagine. Let me help you. I won't offer twice. I can be merciful, but do not take me for a patient man.

For the very first time, someone surprised her. What would Loki know of her? She belonged to a lesser part of Asgard; the army was all she knew. The rush of swords, the clanging of shields, the loss of life. The nobility never contacted with them, unless it was to issue a direct order for war. The rest of her, her childhood, was left at a blank. There were no faces, no expressions, and no fun that she could remember. That was why she was a firm woman. She preferred to be alone because there was never anyone there for her, no face she recognized as good. And in her loneliness, she wondered often if she could remember her past.

She was left speechless; her mind was still deciding what to say. Should she really trust him? If he was able to read her mind, then he would have said everything that she had just thought and she would have caught him. But Loki stayed silent; he was waiting for her to answer him.

"And how exactly would you help me? You just stated your magic did not work. And if you were using my mind to fill the other side of this conversation, you would have blurted out everything I had thought out already."

You really are clever, aren't you, lieutenant? The problem with this sort of spell, my dear, is that it remains one sided. It is not meant to keep me above you, simply as a means of communication. And you are correct, spells and magic would do nothing to help you. But talking about your past will. To start us off, if I may ask, exactly how did you get that scar on your right palm? The one that goes from your wrist to the end of your forth finger?

He continued to surprise her. She had a scar on her right hand, yes. But no one had ever seen it. She always wore white gloves to hide it; she had no use of people starting to guess where it was from. She reached for it, and then took it off. The scar would show no matter what she did, the thin white line was paler than her skin.

"Not even I know that Loki, not even I do. The furthest I remember was three battles ago, a few years of service. I always assumed I was born with it, or a defect I had gained from a fight and had not noticed. I do not have an answer for you."

You may not have one, but I do.

And suddenly, she saw a memory that was not hers. She saw Frost Giants and Asgardians, she saw a war. The land was Jotunheim, its icy barriers the home of the Jotuns. The ice was cold and deadly, pillars of death. She saw soldiers die, swords being thrown to the ground from their owner's ice covered hands. She saw the nobility fighting, Thor and his hammer wreaking havoc among the giants. Odin was riding Sjephnir, bearing his trident and smiting giants. And then she saw herself and Loki. Loki bore his golden armor and green cape; his golden horns gleamed in the darkness. He was using green fire and multiples of himself to defeat the Jotuns, surrounding them in illusions. But there was something different about her. Gone were her golden sword and black coat. She looked powerful; she was wearing a dress worthy of a goddess. The green and black of it swirled around her as she turned back and forth among the Jotuns. And she was using magic on them, her fingers moving swiftly and like a puppeteer. Her mouth was moving as well; spells were forming that easily defeated the Jotuns, green fire surrounded them and melted their ice away. And when the Jotuns were dead, a smile formed on her face. She ran to help Loki, her golden heels kicking up dust as she flew.

She gasped as she returned to herself; the memory had given her a headache. But it wasn't her memory. She could never do magic, that was why she was not a goddess of Asgard or a commander. The only things she knew how to wield were her sword and her shield. But the memory showed her as powerful, the magic she produced there was astounding. And that smile. Never could she have thought herself as happy and yet here was the proof, she had never truly smiled before.

"How….. How did you do that?! That memory is not mine; I do not remember any of this. I cannot do magic, god of mischief. Is this an illusion of yours, this memory? I feel like I know something, but I am not sure of what it is." She dared not to hope. But maybe he might be able to finally break into that silence and nothingness she had within her. The years of her life that she had not known lingered there in her heart, white and useless, and she wanted to know what they were.

But when she looked down at Loki, she saw his body was tensed in pain. His eyes were closed and he was bent over, his black hair covering part of his face. She crouched and took his hand; his fingers were brown with dried blood. And Loki opened his eyes; the green in them showed something that she had never dreamed he would have. There was sadness and distance there; the sadness and aloneness that mirrored the same feelings she would have in the darkness.

This spell, it will not last for long. But I can still help you, I promise. There is only one thing that you must do to help do so.

"Anything." She said hurriedly. Gone was her fear of him. She wanted to know who she was. She had felt something in his memory. It was no lie, no illusion.

Take my muzzle off; it is the only way to keep on talking to you. The past you knew how to perform spells, so use them to take it off. Trust me, I won't bite you once it's off.

She laughed. But then her face quickly turned to confusion. Magic?

"If only I could Loki. I do not know any spells; my commander would teach me and scold at me for how horrible I was."

No, you can do it. Focus, concentrate on it and you will succeed. You must place your hands on my muzzle, close your eyes, and utter the words of magic.

"What words are they?"

But there was no response from him. Loki shook his head, his black hair bouncing and going back to their feathered state. He stood up, looking expectantly at her.

But how would she do it? And what would happen after?

She leaned in closer to him, her gloves were off. She touched the scratched metal muzzle at the ends, the cold brushing her fingers. She closed her eyes and waited for something. 'Magic.' She thought. What nonsense. But she said the first thing that came to her cleared mind.

"Ikol."

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. She pinned all her hope to her first thought, Loki's name in reverse. And then she felt it, a cold had started at her fingertips. It was so cold, almost like touching the ice of the Jotuns. It spread, the feeling trickling until her whole body felt frozen. Her eyes still closed, she saw a green color among their darkness.

And then the feel of the metal muzzle was gone. But before she could open her eyes, she felt something moving.

Loki's soft, warm lips were on hers before she had the chance to look. She felt his desperation and need, his hurry. And she invited him in, her red lips returning the gesture. But she felt something shift in her; she was no longer her old self.

It seemed an eternity before she opened her eyes. Loki was there, his face in front of hers, staring at her with his mesmerizing eyes. She looked down, the green and black dress from the memory Loki had shown her replaced her black coat.

"Sigyn." Loki uttered, his face glowing with his happiness.