She shivers, it's been a long night and the icy wind doesn't help when trying to sleep. Her cloak isn't very thick and certainly isn't waterproof so when the snow you're sitting on melts it's not something you can hide. Neither of them have a tent, neither would, which made sleeping in a cave the best option. It was one of the early hours in the morning and even though the sun was about to rise Octavia didn't feel like sleeping – despite her eyelids drooping and muscles relaxing. She wanted to stay awake and feel safe. After all safety was the one thing she never had, and sleeping on an icy wasteland with a criminal who you just broke out of prison was an extra load of uncertainty dumped upon her usual weight.

The man, Loki, was tall with slick black hair and brilliant green eyes. His features fit his face, and was reasonably good looking but Octavia didn't really feel any attraction to him. If anything she felt a little intimidated, after all he was a mass murderer, but then she remembers how many people she doomed and felt anger and resentment towards herself.

She merely broke him out so she could save herself. Greedy, she knew it, but she also knew her own danger and was eager to stop being hunted down. It was crazy really, to choose Loki over Thor, but how would he protect her when he cared so much for his people? He would have thrown her in jail the moment she set foot there. And anyways, he would have been spending too much time with that silly Jane Foster on Earth than in Asgard. Loki was more committed to getting what he wanted, rather than the better for others jive. But then wouldn't that rule apply to her as well? No, the bargain gave him what he wanted most, and what she wanted second most. He would keep it. Or she would kill him.

Sitting in the mouth of the cave the refreshing yet chilling breeze swept over her like a watercolour, washing her in the wind of dawn. She missed being happy. When was the last time she was happy? It was too long ago. How would she remember anything when her memory is lathered in layers of guilt? Maybe one day she will remember, but for now her memory is blocked – the truth hurts too much too look back. Her past haunts her anyways, in her dreams.

She hears a loud intake of breath and turns around. Loki is there standing at the other side of the cave mouth. He looks strange, maybe even a bit pale. His lips are drawn shut and tight and is breathing heavily.

"Are you all right?" She asks. Not overly-confident and not very social it's hard to know how to respond. Just ignore them or ask or what?

"Why here?" He asks quietly, and then "Why here?" he says a little louder.

"What do you mean 'here'?"

"Why Jotunheim?" she says with disgust, "Why this vortex of nightmares? This icy horror? This place where so many things have happened to me?" he spits, rounding on her, expecting a good answer.

"Does this place trouble you?" she asks surprised, she had no idea Loki hated this place. His tone of voice was enough to tell he loathed Jotunheim, a place she preferred to Asgard, it had hardly any residents. His revolted face answered her question. "I'm sorry I didn't know"

"It's fine" he storms off into the cave and leaves Octavia a little flustered. She looks out over the horizon and watches the first glow of orange appear from the dense purple surrounding it. Morning at last, a real reason to stay awake. If she could still see the beauty in life then the view she had would have been mesmerizing, but as her own egotistic past ruined the rest of her life beauty was a rare thing to come by. She watched as the hazy glow spread, slowly, through the dark sky like blotted ink on a tissue. How the orange mingled with yellow and then the very edge of a bright golden mound appeared in the distance. She spent a long time there, pondering floating questions in her mind, but watching the sun rise at the same time. Not really realising what she was doing and doing nothing in general. Then when the sun was a fifth through its rise Loki comes storming out again from the cave.

"Why are we here?!" he demands, with a ferocious expression. She doesn't reply immediately as her calm daze had been disturbed, but a rush of adrenaline had ran down her spine. As she turns to face him is his only a foot away, and then feels a stinging pain on her left cheek.

She then realises that she isn't facing Loki anymore, but is looking and the soft velvet snow on the floor. She had been slapped. Looking back up at Loki, with her senses electrocuted by the sudden tension she stood up and pushed him.

"What was that?!" she shouted, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Her cheek had gone bright red from the force of the slap. It still stung, but no tears came to her eyes. Despite her physical appearance, she was tough.

"Would you like me to repeat the question or do you want me to force the answer out of you?" she said, shoving her back. From what he knew force was a good method in this situation; this 'girl' looked tiny and fragile. He needed an answer, he shuddered at the thought of being in Jotunheim. The place was vile, it made his blood boil and he hated it.

"What is it about this place that you don't like? What is it that makes you so… - angry?!" she retorted.

"Maybe I should show you."

Octavia balked as she saw the transformation. His pale skin turned a blue colour, spreading from his face to his hands and neck, completely coating him. His eyes turned a blood red and strange markings appeared on his skin. The man was an evil, he was a frost giant.

"You, you-" she stammered. No wonder he hated it, he was one of them and always tried to hide it. He would never have been a true Asgardian like that.

"Now you see, what I am," he puts his arms out to the sides and spins, "You see, why I can't stand this place!" she spits, eyes meaned and deadly. He sneers at her, "You think acceptance is easy, well it's not. You say I can trust you – but why would you be a criminal unless you had something to hide?" he says sardonically, veering towards her, "Show me yours."

"What?" she says unsure of what he means but having a horrible feeling she did.

"I've shown you mine, now you show me yours" he simply says. She got it now, it was a trust thing. As criminals together it's second nature to size up your partner, to see what they have to hide, and to trust them means telling all you know – or showing them your true identity. And Octavia had hidden herself this whole time, meaning her whole life. But to reveal yourself in the right way is important too. Loki tried to impress her, by making himself look dangerous and menacing. He probably is, but this one moment will define her image for this whole journey – so she needed to make the most of it.

Angrily she untied her cape and fiddled with the ties. Then, doing the best she can to look confident, pulled down her hood and looked Loki straight in the eyes. He stared back at her, having turned to normal form, and was undeniably astonished when she pulled off her cloak and threw it to the floor. Her head held high she stood there, with the morning light glowing on her and the frost-ridden wind biting her skin, wearing nothing but a black shirt with many scraps of material wrapped around it and some skin-tight black trousers. Her body was thin, abnormally thin – she was on the verge of anorexic and her skin was so pale it was almost see-through. Her face was small and heart-shaped, with cute features and permanently scared brown eyes. Her hair was long, as if it had never been cut, and was a brown-coal tone, like the colour of coca powder and flour mixed together; and it had been authentically braided down her back.

It was against him to feel kind, and she was only there to help him become king, but despite her obvious physical flaws, Loki thought she was one of the fairest females he had ever met.