Author's Note: Oh my god its another update. And what's this? I did it before half the year has gone by? Does this mean that my quality of writing is getting better or am I just lowering my standards? The world may never know. As per usual R&R if you'd be so kind and enjoy the "quick" update.
The hearth crackled and spit as a servant added more wood to the already roaring flame. The heat was unnerving to Loki, who sat as far from its opulent glow as he could, wondering momentarily if it was something to do with his frost giant heritage. The fire, however, was requested primarily for the benefit of the council of elders that sat before him. It had been nearly two weeks since he first requested an audience with the irritating group about their curious little subject on Midgard, yet there he was still listening to their bickering.
Asgard's Counsel of Elders was supposed to act something like an advisory board for the Alfather, who ultimately had absolute power in the decision making. The group traditionally consisted of the 12 eldest members of the highest ranking noble families, with one actual royal advisor. Most considered it to be a great honor to serve in the presence of the king, some even made it their lifelong goal. However, Loki saw it for what it truly was, a simple way to make the people compliant.
You see, the people had been given the very false honor of being able to remove the standing members of the council, if enough of them saw fit. However, since Odin rarely listened to any of the fools, he used them as means to do whatever he pleased and not receive public scrutiny for it. To put it simply, whenever something questionable was done by the crown, Odin would blame it on the workings of the council. Then members would be replaced and subjects would feel satisfied that something had actually been accomplished. Meanwhile, ultimate power still remained in the hands of the royal family. It was ingenious really.
Except for when Loki was forced to deal with them.
He rubbed his temples as yet another dreary old man prattled on about how Asgard shouldn't meddle with the affairs of Midgard. Loki momentarily cursed Heimdall for even putting him up to this meddling task in the first place. If the all-seeing god had not asked him to, Loki would never have embarked on such an irritating quest for a mortal-sympathizing sorceress.
"Asgardians do not reside on Midgard. If she was from our world that is where she would be. The girl is their business, not ours!" One man with curly brown hair declared to the group.
"How can you be so sure? Never before have I heard of a Midgardian possessing the skill of magic. Not even all Aesir have the gift to control it," the man with washed out blonde hair questioned.
"And why should we believe the word of the God of Mischief and Lies?" The man gestured to Loki. "How do you expect me to put Asgard's safety in the hands of a deceitful snake like him?" Loki scowled at the man's words. He would have been more irritated if Loki did not recall the time he had unleashed twenty serpents into his private bathing chambers the last time the man had slighted him.
"I'd watch my tongue, Colborn, least you forget who you are referring to." Loki spoke up and the eyes of the hall focused on him, seeming to notice him for the first time. He was growing tired of their game.
"Our apologies, your majesty, but he does make a point, " a mousy frail looking man said, "how are we supposed to trust this is not some sort of ruse?" Loki felt his teeth grind together in frustration.
"It shouldn't be a matter of you trusting me or not. I am a Prince of Asgard. My word is infinitely higher than yours regardless of whatever you think my reputation may say about me."
"You are a mere child in the presence of the elders!" Loki gripped the table and shot to his feet.
"Now you listen here-" Loki spat before a thunderous voice cut him off.
"Enough!" Odin stood in the great golden archway of the room, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. The elders scrambled to kneel before the Allfather with a customary fist over their hearts. Loki was the only one to remain standing, a scowl etched permanently into his features. He had enough of these useless idiots for a lifetime.
"Your grace!" The twelve men exclaimed in surprise as Odin continued on his path to the council's meeting table.
"Rise," he ordered in a lazy tone and took the empty seat at the head of the table. He rested his head in his hand as the rest of the group made their way back to their seats. It seemed that even the king himself disliked dealing with the council.
"Why is it that you have requested my presence this evening, Loki? Is the entire council not enough to satisfy whatever you need?" Loki's eyes narrowed momentarily at his adoptive father. Before he could answer, another man i nterjected. .
"Your grace, what the Prince suggests is absolutely ludicrous. I would never sanction a mortal Midgardian to be allowed into the golden gates of Asgard."
"How many time must I say, the girl is not Midgardian, nor mortal before you blithering idiots get it through your thick skulls?" Loki was losing his patience very quickly.
"Girl? What girl?" The one-eyed king asked, his attention completely fixed on his son. Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh before recounting the story for the dozenth time.
"The sorceress whom which resides on Midgard and seems to have little knowledge to why she is so unlike the rest of the mortals. I believe her to be Asgardian and wish to transport her here for further observation, or at the very least, for answers as to why and how she ended up on Midgard."
"Your grace," the same man which Loki had quarreled with earlier spoke up, "it would be unwise to let such a creature into the heart of the castle. That is, if this girl really is what the Prince claims her to be." Loki sneered at him before Odin spoke once more.
"Why have you taken such a task upon yourself? What is the significance of this girl?"
"I assure you," Loki pressed, "that i would not be doing such if Heimdall had not asked me personally to do so."
"Heimdall put you up to this?"
"As I said before, yes, Heimdall asked me to investigate the girl who suddenly appeared to him where she had not before." Loki let his frustrations show through his careful avoidance of the Allfather's title.
"How would you plan on bringing her here?" Finally, they were getting somewhere.
"Through the bifrost of course. I would escort her here and she could stay as a royal guest until we determine what to do with her. None outside this room need know of her true purpose in Asgard. This way, she may be removed as quickly and quietly as possible, need the occasion arise." Odin ran a thoughtful hand through the wiry grey hairs of his beard.
"Your grace, you cannot possibly be considering-"
"Silence!" The King's mighty staff hit the ground with a defining crack, efficiently cutting Colborn off.
"I must press that I believe it is more of a flight risk to leave her on Midgard with such advanced magical energy. She is, as the mortals would put it, a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any point in time. If she does not come to Asgard to learn to control the magical ability she possesses, I fear that she may morph into an unpredictably powerful enemy." Loki had began to pace halfway through his speech, taking long strides from one end of the table to the other. It appeared as if he were talking to himself rather than the Council of Elders and the King himself.
Odin stared upon the dark prince, the son who was not his son. They had yet to acknowledge that stinging little fact, but both were fully aware of that. He felt the barrier there, the hostility that radiated off of Loki every time Odin looked upon him. Within that, the king saw something dangerous brewing. Perhaps this task would distract him for awhile.
"I've made my decision." Everyone in the hall looked upon the Alfather expectantly, each foolishly expecting that he had chosen their own solution. "The girl will be transported here, by Loki, who will also keep close watch on her throughout the duration of her stay in the castle."
Protests erupted through the room. Shouting at Odin, shouting at Loki, shouting at each other. Loki stood there with a self satisfied smirk on his face as he watched the chaos unfold before him.
"The decision is final!" Odin declared. "Loki, you shall leave on the marrow by the bifrost. I expect you keep this under control."
"Of course," then Loki, quite deliberately, dipped his head in a overly dramatic bow, "your grace."
Loki swept across the room in a second, finally leaving the Council behind. All there was left to do was to collect the girl.
The coffee shop reeked of patchouli and old cigarettes, as it had since it was introduced to these pretentious scum. This establishment had been here since the 1902, and Ravyn had been going here since. It was a blessing in disguise that the staff changed so much that she never had to bother trying to hide her appearance because this was her favorite little nook in New York. Everything was made with old books. The walls were lined with them, there were chairs and tables and counters made of them, even the cups were made to look like they had pages printed on them. However, quite recently her private little space had been made into a paradise for these hemp-bagged bastards. Ravyn wanted to leave, she really did. It would be so easy for her to leave and wait out this idiotic trend, but damn, this was the best coffee she had ever had.
Ravyn wrinkled her nose in disgust when an artificial cloud of smoke drifted over to her table. The sickly sweet smell of something akin to an off peach clung to her like a bug clings to a venus flytrap. She would have to get her new leather jacket cleaned if the man behind her didn't stop the fog from his mouth. With a scowl, she turned around in her seat and tapped him on the shoulder. The man turned to face her, vapor trailing out of his nose and into her face as he did.
"Do you mind stopping that while I'm here? It is bothering me." The man raised his eyebrow at her. He was a younger man, around his early twenties. He had a brillowy, unkempt looking beard that stuck past his chin to his shirt. The thick striped red sweater was slightly covered by the acid washed overalls he wore. He stared at Ravyn with his watered down blue eyes in disbelief.
"Why should I? This isn't hurting anyone. It's perfectly legal vape in public spaces, besides this is a smoking shop anyway."
"I understand that, but it is bothering me and I've asked you politely to stop."
"Whatever, London. You're obviously not from around here, so you're just going to have to get over it and stop trying to oppress my choices." Ravyn ground her teeth together. She hated when people would make snide comments about the way she spoke. She found that even though she had spent time in various places in her life, her dialect had remained extremely close to her mother's. It just so happens that over time, England developed an accent quite similar to her own. So even though she came first, Ravyn was always grouped with them.
"You need to learn to respect your elders."
"My elders? What are you, 20 at the most?" Ravyn felt her magic rush through her. Perhaps she would teach this irritating man a lesson.
"I think you're hungry," she deadpanned, her eyes fixating on him.
"What are you ta-" Her magic pricked his mind with debilitating forcefulness before he could utter another word.
"I said, I think you're hungry." The man's mouth opened to retort once more but no words came out. His eyes flickered around frantically as his hand immediately grasped the porcelain ashtray that laid on the table in front of him. It was filled with the foul smelling butts of long discarded camel cigarettes, their pink bands crumpled within the half smoked tobacco and ruined filters.
The man's thick, meaty fingers scraped to the bottom of the tray, the chalky ash embedding under his fingernails and mixing with the coarse hair on his knuckles. He grasped a handful of the blackened ends and brought them to his face. In one fluid motion, the man put them in his mouth. A few stray butts fell from his hand, leaving smoky grey trails all along his shirt and overalls. He bit down once, then twice before his eyes started to tear up from the foul tasting tobacco. His hands twitched, trying desperately to remove them from his mouth, but they stayed firmly at his sides while he continued to choke and gag.
"Do you like this?" Ravyn questioned calmly. The man shook his head vigorously, still slowly chewing. There was a thin black trail that had now leaked from the corner of his mouth down to his chin.
"It feels like you're suffocating doesn't it? Like all your senses are being bombarded by the overwhelming taste and smell." He shook his head again.
"Well that's what I feel like when you blow your disgusting vapor into my face. Now spit it out."
His hands instantly cupped under his mouth and the remains of the cigarettes pooled into his palms. His teeth were no longer yellowed, but black with stray tobacco and paper sticking to them. The spit and ash leaked from his hands to his lap as he stared at her fearfully, unable to immediately flee.
"Perhaps this will teach you to be kinder to those around you. Think of this next time you decide to be pretentious." The spell was lifted and Ravyn watched smugly as he bolted from his seat to the door. Just before he left she saw the man reach into his pocket and deposit the silver device into the trash.
No one in the cafe had witnessed the scene unfold before them, much to Ravyn's delight. She turned back to her table to continue reading, but sitting there, right across from her, was none other than the God of Mischief himself.
It had been nearly three and a half months since she had seen him for the first time. Three months of waiting to see if he ever did return as his words suggested. Three months of unanswered questions gnawing at her brain. Three months of trying to convince herself that her perpetual loneliness hadn't driven her insane. Even now, as Ravyn gawked at the long haired God adjacent to her, she wasn't quite sure.
He had an arm lazily thrown across the back of the seat he was in while the other absentmindedly fiddled with a golden object in his hand. He no longer donned the strange garments he did last time. Instead he wore a sleek suit jacket with a long viridescent scarf that hung across his shoulders. He was watching her curiously, as if she were some sort of caged animal.
"That was an interesting trick you used, quite advanced for someone with such little magical practice as yourself." His dark tenor broke her from her trance.
"Loki," Ravyn breathed out, only slightly above a whisper. Loki unhooked his arm from the seat and rested it on the table between them, leaning forward slightly so there was only a foot of distance between them.
"I see you've discovered who I am. Bravo to you for that. Perhaps there is some hope for you." His sarcasm took on more of a snide tone in response.
"I didn't think you would come back." He rolled his eyes.
"Even with your limited mortal education you must understand that there is such a thing as a time difference between different planets." He stopped his explanation briefly as a waitress came to refill the empty coffee cup that was abandoned on the table. Ravyn looked up slightly and muttered a thank you before returning her full focus to Loki, who looked more than annoyed at the interruption.
"As I was saying, I come from a different world than this, a different galaxy with longer days than you are used to on this pathetic realm." He spat the word in the direction of the waitress who eyed the table with mild interest.
"A single day and night cycle on Asgard is equal to an entire week on Midgard."
"It's been three months…" Ravyn trailed off. Loki let out an exasperated sigh.
"While it may have been three moons here, I only spent a fortnight is Asgard before I came back to collect you." Ravyn pursed her lips, her forehead wrinkling slightly. This was almost too much to handle.
"Collect me? What does that even mean?" Instead of answering her question, Loki got up from his position and began to walk to the door in long, graceful strides. Several heads turned to watch him leave, their eyes wide with awe at the dangerously tall man before them.
"Wait!" Ravyn called after him. She fumbled through her purse and quickly threw a fiver on the table before rushing out into the cool New York air.
People rushed by her, pushing past each other in both directions as the hard grey sky shone unforgivable above them all. Ravyn's head whipped from side to side as she searched frantically for where he could have gone. Out of the corner of her eye, about a block away, she caught a glimpse of green slipping into an abandoned alleyway. She practically ran after him, weaving in and out of passerbys until she got to the alley. He stood in the narrow strip of crumbled grey rocks and graffiti, looking strikingly out of place.
"What the hell is your problem? It seems every time I ask you a question you just disappear. I don't know what it's called on your realm, but here that's considered a dick move."
"I'm taking you to Asgard," he said emotionlessly.
"Excuse me? You're doing what?"
"I said, I am taking you to Asgard, what do you not understand about that?" He repeated, donning a much more bitter tone. Ravyn stared at him with utter disbelief.
"I think the fuck not!" Loki took a dangerous step towards her so that he was towering over her curvy frame.
"You have a filthy vocabulary."
"Well what do you expect? You're a complete stranger. I don't even know if you really exist." In the blink of an eye, Loki took another step forward. His hand shot out and tightened around her wrist. His mouth lowered daringly close to her ear.
"I assure you," Ravyn felt something cold clamp around her wrist, "This is entirely real."
She yanked her hand away from him and stumbled a few steps away. Ravyn examined her wrist thoroughly, twisting it to get a better glimpse of what Loki could have possibly put on her. It was a rustic gold set of twin snakes entwined with each other, wrapped snuggly around her wrist. One head was pressed firmly into the soft pale flesh of her inner forearm while the other rested carefully on the bend of her hand, its sharp emerald eyes glaring up at her. Ravyn tried to pry it off with her other hand but it wouldn't budge.
"What the hell is this?"
"That, he gestured to the bangle, "is my mark."
"Your mark?" She repeated.
"Yes, it's customary for visitors of Asgard to bare the mark of their host. You are to remain as my royal guest until further notice. No one save the council and Odin himself will know of why you are truly in the realm eternal."
A fiery rage bubbled inside Ravyn. How dare he just disrupt her life? How dare he mark her like some sort of possession. Yet deep down she felt a slight trickle of excitement at the possibility of traveling to the world she had poured countless hours into studying.
"You marked me? You absolute prick!" Before she could think she had cocked her arm back and swung directly at his face. Loki easily caught her by her wrist, gripping her so tightly that the golden bracelet left imprints in his hand. Ravyn tried to pry his fingers off with her other hand but he trapped that wrist as well and brought her so close that she could feel his warm breath on her face. She tried to struggle against his chest, but he quickly stilled her with one swift jerk.
"Now listen here girl, my mark is not something I gift just any person carelessly. Very few have ever had the privilege to wear it, and be that as it may it will also act as a form of protection. The people of Asgard will see my mark and know that if any harm comes to you they will pay far more dearly than however you have been slighted. I have bestowed this highly coveted gift to you, yet you still try to strike a member of the royal family. People of a far higher position than you have lost their hands for such an act."
He threw her away from him and watched as she tried to regain her footing. Ravyn rubbed her wrist and glared at him. It was embarrassing, to say the least, how different her perception of this man was before she had actually met him.
Loki was always her favorite god to read about when it came to Norse Mythology, which it almost always did. Ravyn had been borderline obsessed from the moment she first learned about the black haired man that stood before her. She poured over the stories and legends that surrounded him, everything from his playful mischief to his bringing of Ragnarok. However, the subject that she cared for the most was that of his magic. Many other myths carried stories of sorcery, but Ravyn had never felt the same connection that she had when she read about Loki's It was laughable to her now to think that Loki would be anything but arrogant.
"Why are you even doing this? It's obvious you have much better things to be doing."
"You're correct, I do have better things to be doing than escorting an ungrateful girl such as yourself."
"Then don't escort me!" Ravyn threw her arms in the air out of frustration. "Just leave me here on this planet. Alone. Like I've lived and survived for hundreds of years now without the help of anyone who may, or may not, be a part of my true race."
"I've had enough of this." Loki snagged the arm closest to him. "We are leaving now." Before she had time to argue, Ravyn's back was forced against Loki's chest and a brilliant multicolored light engulfed them. The last thing that Ravyn saw of Midgard, at the very end of the alley, was the continuous scraping of shoes against the city pavement. New York, as well as Earth, continuing along as if she had never even been there.
