Godless

by ThexOnexWhoxWanders

To Thor and Loki, Zora is an ancient Asgardian legend come to life. To Zora, Fate just decided to toss her a curveball and send her on the adventure of a lifetime. But why, WHY, did that adventure have to always include the fallen Asgardian prince? Loki/OC ,Thor-OC friendship.

4. Chapter 4

PART FOUR

The rift to Vanaheim was hidden, of all places, beneath the tresses of two ancient willow trees – or whatever the Asgardian equivalent of willow trees were, considering they were almost twice as big as the Midgardian species and their long, spindly branches grew leaves that winked gold and silver under the midday sun. To Zora, it looked like somewhere Tinkerbell might call home. To everyone else, however, - excluding Jane, probably – the sight was clearly pedestrian.

"You're sure it is here, brother?" Thor asked, peering between the two trees, his eyes squinted harshly as if by some stroke of luck, the rift itself would magically appear. Not that that was actually out of the question, really. Not to Zora, at least. For all she knew, the rift could, indeed, just magically appear.

It was, itself, magic, wasn't it?

Gods, her head was beginning to hurt from thinking in all these circles.

Loki gave his brother an icy glare. "Of course I'm sure," he snapped. "How else do you think I ever snuck away to visit Lady Arnia when she was still a maiden?"

Zora just blinked at the reference and turned to Thor, whose frown immediately morphed into a nostalgic grin. "Ah, yes. The Allfather was always so displeased that he couldn't discover your method. But here?"

"Yes, here," Loki snapped again. Ever since Fandral's remark earlier, and the subsequent conversation, Loki had been tense. Coiled taut like a rope about to snap. Zora wasn't completely sure why the trickster god metamorphized from haughty to angry, but it had happened, and they were all dealing with the consequences.

He swung off of Slepnir gracefully – more gracefully than Zora had ever thought possible of anyone – before turning and offering his hand to her. Ever the gentleman, it seemed. Well… for the most part.

Regardless, Zora had been humiliated enough at having to ride with him. Forgoing his gesture, she tried to mimic his dismount from the horse… and wound up catching one of her boots in a stirrup, sending herself sprawling backwards. Zora threw her arms out and braced herself for a hard fall, but it never came. Instead, two strong hands caught her at the waist, roughly, before gently lowering her to her feet.

She didn't even need to look up to know who her savior was. Gods damn it all.

Cheeks burning in further embarrassment, Zora grumbled a thank-you before turning to the saddlebags, intent to put that little mishap behind them without comment.

"Really, Agent Haque," Loki said in that smooth voice of his, because of course, the God of Mischief wouldn't let it go that easily, "I realize accepting chivalry is out of your nature, but being prudent is not."

Her hands stilled over the fastenings of the saddlebags. She rounded on him, a glare already on her face, only to find him grinning at her with genuine amusement. All that coldness, that anger, had quickly been replaced by a seemingly good-natured joke.

Zora's mouth opened, then snapped shut. He was being friendly with her again. Gods, she liked it better when he was mean. At least then, she knew how to handle him.

Canting her chin further in the air, Zora tried to salvage what little dignity she had left. "Yeah, well, for all I knew you'd have yanked me off the horse and let me fall to the dirt for a good laugh, anyway."

Apparently, she said something wrong. The brightness in his eyes dimmed. A frown marred his lips. "Yes, because, being the God of Mischief and Lies, I cannot do a single act of kindness. In fact, I was just pondering which nobleman's infant I should steal candy from. And perhaps after that, I'd finally decide which new realm I'd like to commit murder and mayhem on. All in a day's work for me, of course."

Zora blinked at the demi-god. Did he just… throw a bit of a tantrum? Seriously?

"Okay," she acquiesced at his irritated stare. "I get it. You aren't all tricks and lies twenty-four seven. Just… reduce the sass, all right? I could die today. Don't wanna go out feeling guilty for profiling you."

The mention of her more-than-likely imminent death deepened Loki's frown. He grew eerily serious. "You will not die on my watch, Zora Haque," he vowed, and Zora's belly fluttered at the somberness of it all. At the thought that, yes, she really could die. "I swear it."

"I…" she was at a loss. Then she remembered the night before. The words the man so clearly needed to hear. "I believe you."

Fandral snorted rudely beside them – because apparently they had had an audience for quite some time now – and asked pointedly, "Is this little heart-to-heart over now, or should we prolong our journey further?"

Zora was about to lash out at the warrior with a snarky remark but was beat by Loki. "Oh, but it does bother you, doesn't it? Unless it can be fucked or otherwise used for your sheer entertainment, any interaction with women is well beyond your comprehension. You're boringly predictable, Fandral." To the rest of the group, as if he had not just thoroughly insulted one of Thor's closest friends, he said, "Leave the horses. We'll find others in Vanaheim, and I left word with Heimdall to send scouts to collect ours. They wouldn't make it through the fissure, anyway."

Volstagg repressed a laugh – apparently, it wasn't every day that Fandral turned the beet red color he was now – Hogun simply nodded, and Thor stared at his brother as if he were looking at a ghost. Regardless, only another half-second passed before everyone got moving, preparing to make the next step of their journey on foot.

As Zora was preparing her bag, she felt Jane hover over her uncertainly. "What was up with that?" the astrophysicist asked, brows pulled together and curious gaze on the trickster god, who was currently busy speaking to Thor. "I've never… seen him like that before."

Zora just shrugged. "Seen him like what?"

"Protective," Jane said, the word slipping from her lips as a surprise. "Very, very protective. Over someone who wasn't himself."

Taking a sip of the water bladder she had packed, Zora tried hard not to let those words bother her. "I don't know, Jane. Does anyone really know why Loki does what he does?"

That seemed to be a good enough reply for the scientist. But it wasn't for Zora. Not really.

000

Traveling by portal was… unpleasant, in conservative terms. Zora had known it would be even before she stepped through the damned thing. As a matter of fact, her feet hadn't even wanted to step through it. Some part of her was uneasy at this point-of-no-return.

But Zora was connected to things, and it was time to face those things.

Loki, sensing her hesitance even as the others barged on ahead of them – Jane chittering excitedly about this phenomenon and that energy field, Thor smiling indulgently at her as they stepped through, shimmered momentarily, and disappeared – remained behind, his unreadable green eyes focused on her.

"I swore to you that you will be safe on my watch, War-Breaker," Loki said to her in a low voice, using her prophetic name for the first time. "This portal will do nothing more than perhaps leave you somewhat disoriented."

Zora watched as the others passed through the portal – first Fandral, then Vosltagg, and finally Hogun, who spared a glance over his shoulder at her before stepping forward and disappearing along with the others. She didn't like the way they just… blinked out of existence.

"You will be fine," Loki reassured, even going as far as to offer his hand to her for the second time that day. "I know you don't trust me, but at least trust Thor. He's already gone ahead. He would not have placed Jane's life in jeopardy if he sensed something was amiss."

The logic Loki was trying to offer her nearly broke her heart. The demi-god was actually trying to comfort her. For a brief moment, she hated him for it. It made her world too complicated, too difficult, because the soft side he showed her and apparently only her made Zora like him. Actually like him.

And here he was, trying to comfort her, now. When he could clearly see she was distressed, whilst the others just marched on along, completely oblivious to her apprehension. That angered her even more. Thor had brought her here, had essentially told her she was needed to save Asgard, to slay the monster, to play hero… but it was Loki who had to help her keep the pieces of her sanity together. Thor was too busy looking starry-eyed at Jane.

Of course, rationally, she couldn't despise him for that. And she didn't. But it was irritating, nonetheless.

"It's not the portal that scares me," Zora finally confessed, glancing once more at the empty pocket of air where the supposed fissure was, before returning her eyes to the earnest-looking trickster god. "It's just… this is it, isn't it? There's no coming back from this point."

His lips folded into a thin line. "No," he said simply. No lies, no illusions, no crafted fairytales about how she would easily slay the she-demon and they could all merrily return to Asgard, unchanged. "There's no coming back from this point."

"Why did it have to be me?" she asked him, the universe, the Norns – whoever the fuck was listening, really – her tone taking on a plaintive hue. "Why me? Why not Nat or Cap or even Jane?"

Loki smiled gently at her. The way you would smile at a frightened child. The way you would console. "Because the Norns chose you."

"I still don't think I believe in your Norns."

"It matters not," he shrugged, the smile still in place. "Because for some great reason, Zora Haque, they believe in you. They have burdened you with this… glorious purpose."

Those words felt familiar to her for some reason, but Zora couldn't quite place it. Their weight settled on her shoulders, regardless.

Burdened with glorious purpose. What a way to put it.

"What if I fail?" she finally asked, ashamed of how quiet and small she sounded. Like a little girl, running from her nightmares.

Loki stepped forward and took her hand in his. It was pleasantly cool, as before. Reassuring. "You will not fail," he told her firmly. "You aren't destined to."

It didn't make things better, it really didn't, but it helped. Burdened with glorious purpose but destined to succeed.

Zora just didn't want to imagine what the price of that success might be.

000

At long last, Zora and Loki breached the portal, coming out the other side to meet the rest of their traveling party. Five pairs of eyes stared at the fallen prince and the former SHIELD agent curiously, clearly wondering what had taken them so long. When Zora caught Jane's eye, she nearly winced at the other woman's knowing look.

The portal itself had been uncomfortable, discomfiting even, but only for a short period of time before Loki led her by the hand out from it. Dizzy and unbalanced, she clung to his hand for support before finally gathering her senses.

Those five pairs of eyes now stared, in varying shades of plainness, at Loki and Zora's joined hands.

The pair stepped away from one another immediately. Zora hastily walked forward to get a better look at the landscape, trying to force the awkward moment behind her.

"Wow," she breathed, taking in the golden-silver mountains far off in the distance, the rolling forests, the pure and unadulterated nature splayed out before her. They had landed on the crest of a hill with a superb view of the realm, and Zora's breath was almost literally taken away.

She had doubted anything could be more beautiful than Asgard, but Vanaheim was definitely in close competition.

"Yes," Thor spoke, quiet, but proud. "Vanaheim is truly a sight to take it. Mother used to speak often, when Loki and I were children, of how she missed the dense forests, the tribesmen and women, her hikes up the mountain as a young girl."

Sneaking a peek at the trickster god, she found a similar nostalgic smile on his lips. For the first time ever, Zora could see something in the pair of brothers that aligned.

"How far must we travel?" Volstagg asked, taking a hearty swig of whatever liquid he had stashed in his own leather bladder. "Perhaps we could stop at a tavern along the way?" The hopefulness in his tone was not missed by anyone.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Even when the fate of Asgard is at stake, you still cannot take your mind off your stomach. Why am I not surprised?"

Of all people, it was Hogun who laughed. "Even staring certain death straight in the face, Volstagg could not help but wonder what he would have liked for his last meal."

Volstagg grunted unhappily. "I'll have you know it was not certain death. Possible death, that was all. If it had been certain, I would be dead."

"Regardless," Fandral interjected with a smirk. "Hogun has a point."

"And we are not traveling by major thoroughfares," Loki cut in, getting back on topic. Volstagg visibly deflated at this. "As I said before, it is imperative that we remain unseen and unnoticed. But we shall make camp later this evening and perhaps, if your hunger does not slow you down, you can manage to hunt your own dinner."

"Make camp?" Thor asked uncertainly.

"Yes," Loki clipped. "The path through Vanaheim will take at least three days."

Silence. Ugh, Zora had not brought enough clothing for this little adventure. Or food. Or water. It seemed, by the looks on everyone else's faces, that she was not the only one coming to this conclusion.

Loki huffed in annoyance and began marching forward, again towards some destination locked away inside his head. "I warned you all, but were you listening?" Gods, he could be so petulant, sometimes. "No. No one listens. No one ever listens."

Thor looked at Zora helplessly before placing his hand over Jane's lower back and urging her to follow behind Loki. The others followed suit, with Zora bringing up the rear.

000

By the time darkness fell in Vanaheim, the traveling party had managed to wade their way through the thick forests set out before them, staying far away from any large thoroughfares as Loki had advised, and cross a fair portion of land before Thor suggested they stop to rest for the evening.

She could see clearly why he was the one making the suggestion now, instead of Loki, who was eager to push on a little further. Thor's eyes were steadfast on Jane, who was visibly exhausted straight through to her bones. A frown tugged at Zora's lips as she watched the scientist gratefully accept a bladder of water as she rested on a nearby mossy trunk.

As the Warriors Three busied themselves by setting up the tents the party would use, Thor approached Zora while Loki paced, restless, behind her.

"Jane will need sustenance," he informed both of them, his eyes lingering a moment on Loki's tight expression before turning to Zora. "I will go hunt for supper. Would you care to join me?"

Zora almost laughed. "Thor, I've never hunted a day in my life. If anything, I'd scare the animals away."

"I beg to differ," he said kindly. "You are as light-footed as Loki. A natural born hunter, I am sure."

Zora opened her mouth to reject his offer again, but Thor's blue eyes hardened, conveying he had a reason for asking for her company. "Okay," she sighed, glancing back at Loki, who was still pacing, working something out inside his head. She turned back to Thor. "The others will be okay here without you?"

The thunderer nodded. "The Warriors Three are formidable in battle. Loki, himself, could fend off any creature without aid."

Loki's steps faltered at this unexpected compliment before resuming their maddening pace.

Zora glanced back at him once more, wondering what was eating him up. It was a question she'd have to save for later, because Thor was right: Jane needed food, and the others could surely use it as well.

000

They had only crept a half mile out of camp by the time Thor managed to collect three rabbits and some odd little creature he called a skirdja. Zora's suspicion of the thunderer and why he had requested her presence, of all people, grew tenfold. He hadn't needed help whatsoever hunting. She was literally slowing him down.

Still, she wisely said nothing and followed the prince as he crept further into the forest, reassuring her that Volstagg himself could eat twice the amount he had just gathered and would throw a fit if Thor returned with anything short of a feast.

It was only after Thor had expertly – and thankfully, humanely – killed a large stag that he gathered the creature up in his muscled arms and nodded that they could return to camp. And it was at this point that Thor finally decidedly to speak his mind.

Zora was carefully maneuvering herself over a massive fallen tree when the thunderer finally spoke up.

"I am no fool, Zora Haque," he said, completely unburdened by all the creatures he had insisted he carry himself, hopping over the fallen tree as if it were nothing more than a stick. "I know you have promised Loki something in return for his… cooperation. I want to know what vow you made."

Zora stopped short. Of course, she never once took Thor for a fool. He might have acted as if he were more brawn than brains on occasion, but it was easy to underestimate the first prince of Asgard. It seemed she was already guilty of doing so.

Straightening her spine, Zora channeled her inner trickster – not too hard, considering she had been a SHIELD agent, after all – and shrugged as she faced the prince. "I told him that, if he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of Asgard, this was his chance. That seemed to be enough motivation."

Even in the dim light, she could see Thor frown at her. "I do not fault you for lying to me, Zora. Especially after I kept your true nature hidden from you for so long. But I hope you will tell me the truth. As friends."

Okay, so, apparently her inner trickster needed some major practice.

Her breath left her in a long, weary exhale. Running her fingers through her hair, which had become somewhat tangled as they went about their journey, Zora smiled apologetically at the god. "Am I that bad of a liar?"

Thor returned a small smile. "Not half bad. But not as talented as Loki, and we have fought side by side for 1500 years, now."

Fifteen hundred years. Jesus Christ. Zora had a crush on a god who was fifteen hundred years old?

She'd always been interested in older men, but… damn.

Thor cleared his throat. Of course, he hadn't missed the way she'd just internally flipped shit about Loki's age. The small smile on his lips grew. "I know he is fond of you," Thor said, much to her surprise. Loki was fond of her? "But he masks his emotions too well. You must have offered him something very valuable for him to be so proactive about this journey."

"Y'know something, Thor? I don't think your brother gives you enough credit."

Thor chuckled. "No. He does not. But by no fault of his own. I have been brash and badly-tempered for centuries, Lady Zora. He does not think one such as I could so easily change." Then he gave her a pointed look. "But you are stalling. Tell me what you've promised him."

Her hands fidgeted at her sides. "I want to be honest with you, Thor, but I've probably broken about a hundred Asgardian – and Midgardian – laws by what I promised." Laws that Thor was meant to uphold. And she had made a promise to Loki – a promise she had never intended to break. She didn't want to be forced to break it.

To her surprise, Thor simply nodded. "I assumed as much. And I will not stop you, Lady Zora. I don't want to lose my brother again. If there is something I can do to help, I gladly will."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Even if I maybe, sorta, kinda promised that I would break him out of Asgardian custody and take him wherever he wanted to go… so he could be free?"

Thor's brow furrowed at the information. He remained silent for a few beats, the creatures he had collected shifting on his shoulders, before blue eyes found Zora again… amused. "Yes," he concluded. "Even if you promised him that."

Christ, Loki didn't realize what a good brother he had. But maybe, in time, he would.

"You don't hate me for it?"

Thor laughed, moving forward once more, towards their camp, while Zora trailed behind him. "How could I? You are the only other soul in the universe, other than Frigga herself, who sees any good left in Loki. I will aid you in this, Zora Haque. After all, as Midgardians are fond of saying, I will owe you."

For saving Asgard. Well, she never actually thought anyone would owe her something for that. She was just doing what destiny was forcing her to do, wasn't she?

Still, she would take all the help she could get. Part of her knew that, when the time came for her to make good on her promise to Loki, she would need a fucking miracle for the two of them not to be discovered.

000

After the small band of warriors ate and drank what little mead they had brought with them, most retired to their respective tents for the night. Jane had lingered outside a little longer than Zora had expected of her, but the scientist was staring up at Vanaheim's stars with childlike glee, even though exhaustion pulled at her bones. It was only after Thor had ushered his beloved to get some sleep that Zora was left alone in front of the small fire they had started.

Alone with Loki. Loki, her apparent tent-mate for the rest of the journey, because no, she was not willing to share the two-person tent with Fandral. Loki, the god who, as she had to repeatedly remind herself, had taken her hostage after he'd invaded her world… though had, admittedly, treated her well. Up until that midnight execution, of course… That he seemed relieved he didn't have to go through with. Loki, the impossible enigma shrouded in lies and intrigue and mystery, the man – god, she corrected herself – who was slowly managing to grow on her.

Loki, who was staring, hard, into the fire that sat between them, his dark brows furrowed, his jaw tense. He hadn't even acknowledged her presence. Hadn't joined in on the conversation over dinner. Had merely sat, same as where he was now, and stared down into that fire, lost in his own mind.

Zora wasn't necessarily complaining. The god was always so preternaturally aware of his surroundings that it was almost impossible to catch him off guard or to study him candidly. In this moment, as darkness gathered around him and the fire glittered in his vibrant green eyes and he was ignorant of her probing gaze, Zora could honestly say that the trickster god was beautiful. A beauty different than Thor's, true, but different in all the right ways. His flawless ivory skin practically glowed against Vanaheim's shadows, his striking green eyes held a vitality unrivaled, and his inky black hair… gods. Gods or Norns or the fates, whoever, have mercy on Zora Haque's soul.

She was openly admitting to herself that the God of Mischief and Lies was handsome. Beyond handsome. Gorgeous.

One minute could have passed like this or twenty – him, staring unseeing down into the fire, her staring in a mixture of awe, dread, and resignation at his profile. And time might have continued to pass on that way, had Loki's penetrating gaze not finally lifted from the flames and landed on Zora. She was surprised enough that she nearly toppled off the felled tree Thor had placed near the fire earlier.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded of her, his smooth-as-silk voice taking on a dark hue while he stared at her, unrelenting.

Zora's face immediately felt blazing hot, and not because of the fire that sat before her. Had he caught her staring – saw the emotions play out within her eyes? Fuck. "What?"

His gaze was no less challenging. "Earlier," he bit out. "You told Fandral that you far preferred my company. Why tell such a blatant lie, or if not, such a damning truth? Thor's friends despise me. They would soon despise you, too, should they know you don't share in their indiscriminate hatred."

Oh, thank the Norns. So he hadn't caught her staring. Or had and wasn't going to mention it. Something else entirely was eating at him.

Playing with a piece of her obsidian-colored armor to avoid his probing gaze, Zora just shrugged. "I told him that because it was the truth."

There was a long pause, such a long pause that Zora finally glanced up to see if perhaps the demi-god had teleported himself elsewhere. But no – he was still there. His vibrant green eyes were unreadable, but steely. "A damning truth," he reiterated his earlier words. "Though I suppose it is not too surprising. Any lady with an ounce of intellect would much prefer a bloodthirsty bilgesnipe over Fandral's insufferable presence."

And there it was again – that self-loathing. The rare moment of vulnerability in Loki that revealed he likely hated himself far more than everyone else did. It made Zora feel sick. Disgusted at Thor's friends. Disappointed, even, in Thor, who was clearly trying to make up for his past transgressions, but utterly failing. Loki's insecurities ran too deep for a few good deeds and kind words to heal.

"Have you ever thought that maybe I just prefer your company to his because I actually enjoy being around you?" The sadness on his face, the self-hatred, was something Zora knew all too well, herself. Not being accepted by people you so desperately wanted to be accepted by, not having a place you belong… she understood his pain, on some level.

Marble green eyes turned back on her again. His genuine confusion, which quickly morphed into bitter amusement, hurt to see. "I know you jest. It's impossible for me to fathom that you've been in such terrible company that you would prefer mine to anyone's."

Her own self-doubt began to surface. Zora tried hard to forget that she was often just as lost and confused as Loki, himself, was. Maybe even more so. "You don't know anything about the company I keep."

He snorted. "You mean the self-titled Avengers? I believe I know enough. Your realm adores them as much as mine adores Thor. It's pitiful."

"I'm not talking about them," Zora muttered, her own green eyes finding the fire, now. The Avengers were one thing, yes. They were a positive influence in her life, a godsend, a life-preserver, even. But Zora grew up around spies and assassins and soldiers – and not the kind that became world-saving Avengers. Not that kind, at all.

"You are a curious creature," Loki half-stated, half-questioned. Zora glanced up and found his eyes pinned to hers. But luckily he seemed to understand on some deeper level not to pry. Not to ask questions that would cut open old wounds. "But I would remind you of how I invaded your realm without remorse for the dead or dying. How I dragged you from your friends and held you captive in your own home. And how, in the dead of night, I pulled you from your slumber and nearly led you to your death."

At the unpleasant reminder and its accompanying images, Zora glared at him. "Trust me, I remember." And then she did something that the God of Lies clearly did not expect. She grinned. "But I would remind you of how your eyes were a curious, icy blue. And now, as you sit before me, they are undeniably green."

She stood, deciding now was as good a time as any to call it a night. "We all have secrets, Loki. Sometimes… we keep them hidden because we're afraid others won't see the good in us anymore." Her voice broke on that last word, but she pushed on, determined to make her point. All the while, he stared, captivated, broken. "And sometimes, we keep them because we're afraid that, despite the truth, others still won't see the good in us, no matter what."

He didn't speak and she didn't push him to.

The smile she offered him was small and watery. "Goodnight."

000

Loki watched Zora Haque duck into their tent, a deep frown marring his thin lips.

He despised the way she so easily saw through him. He despised her kindness. He despised the Norns who had created her and the younger, purer version of himself who had, for so long, desired her. Even before knowing her, he had desired the love of the War-Breaker, the woman who would save Asgard, the would-be monster-slayer, the savior, the honorable.

He had desired her for so long that, as a child, he had held himself to a standard he thought his imaginary War-Breaker would find noble and attractive. He had shied away from Thor's promiscuous habits, from Fandral's constant goading that had eventually turned into mocking, from lifestyles he found deplorable and disgusting, unbecoming for someone who should be worthy of a savior's love.

Norns, he despised her. Because she was everything he could have hoped for and more. Because she wasn't drawn into Thor's embrace, enchanted by his archetypal Aesir looks, his brawn, his banter and easy presence, but because she had just openly admitted to enjoying Loki's presence, even if it was just over Fandral's. Because she could somehow, even impossibly, seem to actually forgive him for the sins he had committed on Midgard. For nearly executing her while he had been under Thanos' control, despite not even knowing he had been under the Titan's influence.

Because she could somehow sense that the Loki who had wreaked havoc on her realm and nearly slaughtered her in her own home was not the same Loki who sat before her. Something his own father had overlooked.

He despised the beautiful tune that the trinket sang for him as she crept away from him, into the darkness of the tent he was assigned to share with her, as if that was not also impossible.

He despised everything about the War-Breaker known as Zora Haque because it would be so, so easy… to actually like her. To love her, even.

000

The day did not start off like any other. For one, Zora woke to the foreign chirping of various species of birds she had no name for, on a realm she had only just learned she existed, on a mission said to be her destiny. For another, as soon as she blinked her eyes open, she recalled her conversation with Loki the night prior, and pinched her eyes back shut with a cringe.

Gods, had she really been… sweet… to him?

And the trickster hadn't said anything in reply. He hadn't said anything at all. As she glanced around their supposedly shared tent, she found him nowhere to be seen. Furthermore, there was no sign that he'd ever even entered the tent and had slept. So, maybe, she'd been too forthcoming of what she thought of him and scared the bastard away.

Was it possible for anything to go right? Anything at all?

A rustle at Zora's tent opening had her darting upright, the sad excuse for a weapon she had brought – her karambit dagger – clenched tight in her fist.

Sunlight wavered around Jane's visage as she popped her head in the tent. It took the astrophysicist a second to realize she had almost been stabbed by a curved blade.

"Really?" Jane asked, as if her morning was already going poorly. Just like Zora's. "Does everyone sleep with a weapon? Fandral nearly stabbed me in the eye just a second ago. Thor was right – I won't survive this journey."

Zora slowly lowered her dagger and rolled her eyes. "I see Loki's sense of melodrama has started to wear off on you," she muttered, combing her fingers through her hair in an effort to make it look at least somewhat passable.

Jane scoffed. "Please. As if I could pull off emo-goth-hipster vibe as well as he could."

Tilting her head to the side, Zora grinned, however bemusedly, up at the scientist. "Uhh… emo-goth-hipster vibe?"

"Darcy's words, not mine."

"Ah."

"Anyway," Jane said, clapping her hands together. "Breakfast is ready. Loki's been muttering about leaving soon, so you might wanna get up and eat while you can."

Great, Zora thought to herself as Jane disappeared back outside. Loki probably wasn't in a good mood right now either.

000

Zora steadfastly avoided eye-contact with the demi-god, choosing instead to sit next to Hogun on the massive tree trunk slash makeshift bench, grateful for the man's quiet company. Jane was chittering about a star chart she had mapped early that morning, Thor was helping correct some of her sketches, and the other two thirds of the Warriors Three were chowing down on the rabbit-like creature Thor had cooked for their morning meal.

Loki, of course, was pacing a short distance away. When he glanced at her, deep green eyes meeting Zora's light green eyes, she immediately looked away. No way in hell was she dealing with whatever the consequence of her loose lips was right now.

Less than thirty minutes later, the traveling party had doused their fire, dismantled their tents, and began their trek on foot once more, trailing behind a long-strided Loki.

After about an hour's walk, Jane sidled up to Zora, a sparkle in her eyes. "Okay, what gives?"

Zora stared at the scientist in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You and Loki. Yesterday you guys were all buddy-buddy – I mean, he couldn't stop holding your hand. Which is a big fucking deal, because Loki. And today you two haven't said a single word to one another. So. What gives?"

Zora frowned and gestured for Jane to keep her voice down. Gods, she didn't want to deal with this. There was only so much one woman could handle at once. Being the daughter of a foreign realm's prophecy and having a crush on said foreign realm's second prince was definitely too much to deal with all at once.

So Zora lied. "Nothing," she shrugged. "Like you said. He's Loki. He does what he wants, which means he gets moody when he wants."

Jane's eyes twinkled, as if Zora had just said something Jane wanted her to say. "Thor told me you'd say something like that."

Zora nearly drew up short, but for fear of being left behind or yelled at, kept walking. "I'm sorry – Thor told you what?"

Yeah, Loki definitely underestimated his brother. A lot.

"Thor said that you two are ignoring each other because something must've happened last night." Now Jane shrugged, as if this was the most natural thing in the world to say. "Guess he was right." Just as the scientist made to walk back towards Thor, Zora stopped her.

"Nothing happened between me and Loki," Zora stated firmly, looking deep into Jane's eyes to prove that she wasn't lying. Well, not really lying. Nothing had happened between her and Loki in the sense that nothing romantic happened. Which was clearly what Thor had implied.

Jane just smiled back at Zora and patted her arm piteously. "Okay, Z." Then she stepped away, leaving Zora to stare after her helplessly.

She didn't have much more time to think about her predicament, however. Because a few short moments later, as the party of seven walked into a clearing shaped like a semi-circle, Loki halted his steps so quickly that he had to throw his arms out to balance his weight.

The others drew up short behind him, alert, eyes scanning the forests.

"Arm yourselves," Loki said suddenly, his voice tight, as two daggers materialized in his hands. "We are not alone."

000

He had been too busy listening to Jane and Zora discuss how 'nothing had happened' between himself and the War-Breaker the night before to notice the foreign presence, at first. Of course, he felt like an absolute fool. It was an amateur's mistake. One that shouldn't have been made in the first place. Had he been able to tear his thoughts away from the long legged, green eyed woman of his dreams for more than a second, he would have realized they were being stalked.

At last, upon breaching the small clearing, Loki sensed a powerful magic nearby. After telling the others to arm themselves, he stood in front of them, daggers clenched tight in his hands, and sent out feelers for the source of the magic.

When he realized who was stalking them by the nature of their magic, he drew out a long sigh and relaxed his pose. "Of course," Loki muttered to himself, "it would be him."

"Are you not happy to see me, cousin?" a deep, lilted voice asked cheerily from the outskirts of the clearing, grating Loki's nerves. Norns, he already had to deal with Thor and the Warriors Three. Now this?

A figure detached itself from the shadows and entered the clearing. Prince Bjorn of Vanaheim, Loki's first cousin, though they weren't related by blood, stepped into the sunlight, his grin light and airy, his skin almost crystal-like under the sun's rays. Long white-blond hair was pulled back into an intricate braid at the nape of the elf's neck with a bilgesnipe's feather tied into one lock, and as if to further accentuate Bjorn's fairer looks, he wore pearl-white armor that remained silent even as he walked towards the Aesir and the mortals.

Thor immediately stepped out from behind Loki, a relieved grin plastered on his face. "Cousin!" He greeted the Vanir prince with a clap to the shoulder, one that had Bjorn's teeth rattling in his head, before he stepped back and watched as others stepped forth from their positions in the forest's dense shadows. "How did you know where to find us?"

As Bjorn's warriors, five in total, lined up behind him, each wearing a similar pearl-colored armor, the Vanir prince smiled and shrugged. "Father dreamed of your arrival. He sent me to intercept you, for in his dream, you were without horses or a proper meal." Then Bjorn's pale-grey eyes landed on the Warriors Three. "Ah, Volstagg!" He approached the red-headed Aesir quickly, exchanging more claps on the shoulder, turning to Hogun and Fandral next. "It has been too long, my friends."

When the prince's eyes fell next to the pair of very confused mortal women, Thor stepped forward, half-protective and half-apologetic. "Before I forget my manners further, let me introduce you," Thor said, much to Loki's irritation. Norns, Thor and Bjorn were so alike in some ways that it was disgusting. So much posturing.

Carefully holding Jane's hand and presenting her to Bjorn, Thor said, "This is my beloved, Jane Foster of Midgard. She is a renowned woman of science where she hails from, and the sole object of my affections."

Laying it on a bit thick, much? Loki thought to himself, arms crossed over his chest. What Thor was trying to convey was clear to pretty much everyone except Jane: this is mine. Ugh. So childish.

"Lady Jane," Bjorn said, accepting Jane's hand and giving it a chaste and innocent kiss. "It is truly a pleasure to meet you. Any woman capable of catching Thor's eye is a worthy one." He released her hand and stepped back to assess the other mortal – or non-mortal, really.

Zora stepped forward, clearly needing no ushering of her own. She smiled up at Bjorn, who stood a good foot taller than her, though several inches shorter than Loki, and offered her hand to shake. As she did, Loki had to try, with more than a little difficulty, to ignore the loud, symphonic-like ringing from the trinket in his pocket and listen to what she had to say.

"I'm Zora Haque. Of Midgard," Zora added hastily, clearly trying out the Asgardian's custom of introduction. "I don't have any fancy titles like Jane does, sadly."

"Not true," Fandral, of all people, spoke up with a smile. "Zora is the daughter of the prophecy. The War-Breaker, herself."

For a fraction of a second, Bjorn's eyes widened as he took Zora in. Her obsidian armor stood in such a stark contrast to Bjorn's that it was nearly laughable, but clearly Loki's cousin did not find this problematic or contradictory whatsoever. In fact, as Bjorn finally took Zora's proffered hand, the light elf turned it in his own and kissed the back of it, lingering several seconds too long to be considered proper, while batting his near-white eyelashes up at Zora.

"Lady Zora, War-Breaker," Bjorn said, his tone morphing into one of reverence. "It is truly an honor to make your acquaintance."

Loki nearly rolled his eyes again, but then he realized that Zora was blushing. Actually blushing. Her cheeks, usually the loveliest shade of ivory, were tinted pink, and her pupils were slightly dilated as she smiled at Bjorn.

By the Norns, could he not catch a break?

"It's nice to meet you, too, your highness," Zora said, bowing her head slightly. Loki would have laughed at her obvious uncertainty of how to interact with royals had he not felt a terrible desire to step forward and put himself between the pair.

He had to forcibly plant his feet where they were to keep himself from doing exactly that.

"Please, I insist you call me by name," Bjorn told her. "What is a prince next to a savior of Yggdrasil?" As if to make his point, Bjorn bowed to her – something Loki would have thought unthinkable, bordering on completely mad – and grinned, if a bit shyly. "I am humbly your servant."

A silence grew thick in the small clearing. Bjorn's own warriors were clearly jolted at the sight of their prince and future king bowing to anyone who was not his king, as was Thor, although Thor was clearly gladdened by the sight rather than stumped. Jane, too, was wearing a smile of her own, but when she locked eyes with Loki, the trickster suddenly felt even more foolish than he had earlier, when he had failed to pick up on the additional presences.

Jane clearly took too much amusement from their current situation. Amusement that was obviously tied to Loki.

His fists clenched at his sides. He prayed to the Norns that Bjorn and his men would take their leave, and that Loki and the others could once more be on their way.

Although Bjorn's eyes were still transfixed on Zora, he offered to the group, "I insist you all ride back to the palace with my men and I for the night." Finally, his gaze shifted to Loki, then Thor. "We have a feast prepared to celebrate your health and rooms ready for you to rest in. You can restock and take horses in the morning to continue your journey."

Thor nodded along. "That is generous of you, cousin."

Loki, on the other hand, glared. "Generous, but useless. We must continue on now." He looked around at the others, reading disappointment and uncertainty in their eyes. "The fate of Asgard and the other realms rests on our ability to defeat the she-beast in a timely manner. Not waste what precious little time we have on feasts and revelry."

Bjorn, however, was unbothered by Loki's caustic tone. "I understand your worries, cousin, but continuing on a perilous journey such as yours requires more preparation that you've carried out. Sparing an evening to ensure you have everything necessary to succeed is surely worth your time?"

Loki stared down his cousin. Any other being would have withered under the trickster's dark eyes, but not Bjorn. Bjorn returned his look with ease, just as he always had when they were children. It made Loki's blood boil.

Zora was the next to plead Bjorn's case, though it was difficult for her to meet Loki's eyes, for reasons very different than he was used to. She was undoubtably regretting the kind words she had spoken to him the night before, if her temperament towards him for the earlier half of the day was any evidence. His stomach coiled up, like a snake preparing to defend itself from attack.

The fact that she would speak on his cousin's behalf, without knowing the spineless prince for a whole five minutes, nearly sent Loki over the edge. Was it so easy for her to change her mind – to decide that someone else's presence was truly more pleasurable to be in than Loki's?

Of course it was. No one enjoyed his presence, save for his oafish brother and dear Frigga. And no one else ever would.

"We can at least get more supplies," Zora told Loki, as if this was the most logical thing in the world, as if she did not see the way his cousin stared at her with unbridled desire and reverence. "And horses, to quicken our pace. We'll more than make up for any time lost, after that. If that's what's bothering you."

No, he wanted to say. I want to tear my cousin's eyes from their sockets for looking at you the way he is. I want to slaughter his men for not dropping to their knees in worship and gratitude. I want to keep moving so I might have you to myself, again, if only for a few brief moments. But of course Loki had impeccable self-control, and beyond that, self-preservation. His true thoughts would only push the woman further away.

Still, even as his general dislike for Bjorn grew to full-blown hatred in that moment, even as he wanted to keep the non-mortal away from his cousin as much as possible, Loki found he could not deny her.

It was disgusting and weak and he was completely powerless to stop it. Because, as Bjorn had so poetically said… Loki was humbly Zora's servant. Last night, whether she regretted what she said or not, only cemented that notion further.

"Fine," he grit out at last. The others cheered at his concession. "But we leave at dawn."

000

After Loki had begrudgingly agreed to Bjorn's generous offer, Zora couldn't help but notice that the light elf prince would, on occasion, stare first at her hands before his gaze trailed over to rest on Loki's.

It occurred at least three times in short span of time it took for Bjorn's men to round up their horses and pack some of the Warrior's Three gear into various saddlebags. Whenever she caught the prince doing this odd thing, he would glance up at her, seemingly surprised at her attention, before smiling gently, sweetly, kindly.

Zora had prayed to the fates or the gods or the Norns earlier for mercy, but this man – light elf, whatever – before her was not a merciful product of a desperate prayer. Instead, she was faced with a gorgeous and charming prince who seemed to think the world of her, even though they had only just met.

It was like a fucking fairytale come to life. What the fuck.

Loki hovered near her the entire time. Just when she thought the dark-haired god was off doing something else, she would turn and find him mere feet away, his eyes trained on her or Bjorn, green irises almost swirling with irritation. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Loki's problem was: he couldn't stand his cousin. Moreover, he didn't want any further delays on their mission. But if Zora had learned anything during her time in the military, then as an agent of SHIELD, it was that delays were inevitable. It was how one dealt with those delays that defined the outcome of the mission. In this case, going back to the Vanir palace could only benefit the traveling party. Because no one had properly heeded Loki's warnings, not a single one of them had brought enough clothing, food, or water for the mission. Not to mention the horses. The horses would get them to the next rift even faster.

Zora was shaken from this thought when the white-haired elf stepped into her line of sight. "My lady," he said kindly, and Zora blinked a moment to register that he had called her my lady and not Lady Zora. She'd have to remember to ask Jane what the differences meant. "We are prepared to ride back to the palace, now. We don't have enough horses to transport everyone separately, so my men have already partnered with your group. Would you do me the honor of riding with me?"

Gods, did he have to have such a beautiful voice? Or such a genuine smile? Sure, she could tell the man – light elf, she reminded herself once more – was a flirt. Maybe not as much as Thor used to be, and certainly not to the extent that Fandral was. But there was more to the prince than that. Or maybe she was fooling herself into thinking that. She didn't know him, after all.

Bjorn cleared his throat kindly. With some embarrassment, Zora realized she'd been staring at him and hadn't answered. "Of course," she said, whilst noticing a dark figure looming on the peripherals of her vision. "It would be my honor."

The prince smiled at her. Shyly. She would never have described the elf as cute – sexy, yes, but cute? – but in that moment, he was. "You are too kind." Then his gaze flickered over her shoulder briefly and his eyes crinkled in amusement. "After you finish speaking with my cousin, come find me. We shall ride off as soon as we can."

Zora didn't have to ask what the elf meant. Loki, of course, was the figure looming behind her. She nearly jumped a foot in the air when she turned around and found him nearly face-to-face with her – well, face-to-chest, really, since she was over a foot shorter than the god. Despite being turned towards her, Loki's eyes trailed after Bjorn, electric and stormy.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you that the fate of Asgard and every other realm in Yggdrasil rests on your ability to slay Hela," he said, stony expression turning on her.

Zora bit her tongue to keep from retorting right away. Her hot-headedness got her in trouble more often than not. "No," she said after she had collected herself. "You don't."

"Good." Then he brushed past her, his shoulder just barely grazing hers, and started off towards some female warrior waiting for him by her steed.

Zora watched him go for a just a moment. He was worried she wouldn't be able to keep the promise she made him, but Zora always kept her promises. She would do everything she could to keep this one, too. Because, despite her best efforts… she was increasingly growing fond of the trickster god.

000

Déjà vu hit Zora like a sack of bricks as Bjorn gently pulled her up onto his steed behind him. Wasn't it just a day or two before that Loki had done the same? She had felt just as uneasy about the ordeal then, but at least she knew Loki, on some level. Bjorn was a complete stranger to her. A gorgeous, smooth-talking stranger, yes… but a stranger all the same.

When he took her hands and settled them around his waist, pulling her flush against his back and his beautiful armor, Zora's skin flushed a deep red. Gods, did she have a type? An affinity for handsome, witty alien-princes that could never be hers, no matter what?

"Are you well, Lady Zora?" Bjorn asked her as the group of warriors set out, entering the dense forest once more on their way to the palace. "You seem trapped within your head."

Ugh, and he had to be a conscientious and astute gentleman, too. Zora thought, as loudly as she could, a big fuck you to the stupid Norns.

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "There's just been a lot to take in."

Beside them trotted Thor and Jane on a steel gray horse. It seemed that being the crown prince to another realm earned Thor his own transportation. "Yes," Thor added, with some shame. "I'm afraid I did not give Lady Zora much time to come to terms with her true self, cousin."

Bjorn glanced at her, surprised, over his shoulder. "You mean to say that you did not know of your destiny?"

"No," Zora replied in a clipped tone, which she hoped relayed to everyone how much she did not want to have this conversation again. "I did not."

The Vanir prince wisely did not comment. Sensing Zora's growing tension, he smiled back at her before nodding to Thor. "Cousin. How about a good-natured race to the palace? We can see if I'm still the better rider like I was in our youth."

Thor scoffed, but he couldn't hide his nostalgic grin. "The better rider? I remember you were quite adept at cheating, more than anything. You always chose the wildest steed you could find."

Bjorn's smile was seriously a sight to behold. "A habit I have yet to break." Then he flicked his reigns, jolting his steed into a sprint, and shouted back at Thor, "Last to the palace owes the winner a prize!"

Zora nearly shrieked as she and Bjorn were propelled forward, his cream-colored horse launching itself expertly through the forest's thick trees. Her grip around his waist tightened and she felt a rush of euphoria enter her bloodstream, as if she were a kid on a rollercoaster again. And honestly, this wasn't too different, was it? These horses moved far faster than their Midgardian counterparts. For several moments, Zora thought that the steed's hooves didn't even touch the ground.

By the time they reached the massive gates to the palace almost half-an-hour later, Zora was grinning from ear to ear, all tension that had been gathering in her belly dispelled. Bjorn came to a halt within the palace walls, near a stablemaster, and swung from his horse to the ground before taking Zora's hand and helping her down. They grinned at one another and Zora could honestly say she felt happy.

Thor and Jane appeared at that moment, with Thor's face screwed up in consternation and defeat and Jane laughing behind him.

"I told you that wasn't a shortcut!" Jane said, accepting the thunderer's help off the horse.

Thor just grunted. "It looked like a shortcut."

Bjorn clapped his cousin on the back comfortingly. "You must have known you wouldn't win, cousin. You never have!"

Thor rolled his eyes but took the barb with a small smile. "Fine, fine. Tell me, what will your prize be?"

Bjorn's eyes resettled on Zora. Her stomach nearly dropped to her toes, because gods no, no one had ever looked at her like that before. Like she was holy and divine and someone to worship. "Permission to escort Lady Zora to the feast this evening?"

He asked the question as if he knew he would be denied but wanted to try anyway.

Thor looked between Bjorn and Zora, then back towards the palace gates, through which Loki had just entered with a deep frown settled on his face. He was brushing imaginary dust from his armor as he approached the group, his glare settling first on Bjorn, then his brother.

Before Loki could speak, Thor simply shrugged at Bjorn. "Tis not my right to grant such permission. You will have to ask Lady Zora herself. Only she can give away such an honor."

Jane smiled up at him adoringly, and Zora could not blame her one bit. Thor was essentially perfect.

"My apologies," Bjorn said, ducking his head shyly once more. He stepped towards Zora as if he were approaching an altar, and, in a bow, asked, "My lady. Would you allow me to escort you this evening to supper?"

Before Zora could fully wonder at what alternate reality she had stepped into for a handsome prince to even ask that of her, Loki stepped forward, a snarl on his lips. Zora blinked up at him in surprise.

"Cousin," he grit out, as if it pained him to even address Bjorn as such. "The lady should take this night for rest – not for one of your soirees. She has much to do."

Even Zora could tell that the God of Lies was not on top of his lying game at the moment. Clearly something else was bothering him, but Zora was helpless to name what.

Bjorn fixed Loki with a steady look. She had seen him do this twice already – as if he understood Loki better than most, and he would not flinch at the trickster god's acidic remarks. "I have already made the mistake of asking another for the lady's permission, Loki. I will not do so again. Lady Zora is perfectly capable of making her own decisions." He turned his grey eyes on her again, though now they were somber. "And rejecting my offer, if she so chooses, is something I would respect."

Shit. Now all eyes were on her. Zora hated the attention. But the prospect of spending the rest of her evening alone in some room in a palace she was unfamiliar with was not very appealing. "I would be happy for you to escort me," she told the light elf, small smile playing at her lips.

Loki muttered a string of curses and stomped away.

Bjorn, on the other hand, bowed to Zora again, his eyes bright and happy. "As the lady says."

000

Had Zora known that attending the feast meant she had to don a beautiful Vanir dress, she would have said no in a heartbeat. Because the aforementioned Vanir dress was almost impossible to put on.

She tried tugging it over her head but immediately stopped when she sensed that the seams didn't like that movement. Then she tried shimmying herself into it, also to no avail. Another three attempts to put the damned thing on were met with equal failure. Zora growled in frustration.

When she glanced back up in the mirror to give herself a pep talk, she had to muffle a scream.

Behind her stood Loki, tall and dark and imposing, a glower in his eyes and a frown on his lips. His arms were crossed over his armored chest and he stared at her, unimpressed.

And Zora was very nearly naked, thank you very much. She had at least managed to put on some strange species of a corset and matching stockings which were apparently Vanaheim's only form of underclothes… and Loki was just staring at her.

Jesus fuck, why did fate hate her so much?

"Excuse me!" She turned around, shielding herself from his view by holding the dress against her body… before realizing that he was probably getting an eyeful of her ass in the mirror, if his flicker towards the thing was any indication. She stepped away from the mirror, still holding the dress over herself. "Couldn't you have knocked like a normal fucking person?"

Loki cocked an eyebrow. "I'm not a normal person," he said as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. And, well, it sorta was. "And as I passed by your door, I heard a struggle. Though I did not expect it would be with an inanimate object, of all things."

Zora glared at him. "Laugh all you want, but this inanimate object is going to be the death of me."

Loki rolled his eyes. With a flourish of his hands, the dress disappeared from her hold and was suddenly on her body, perfectly done up and clinging wonderfully to her skin.

Staring down at herself with a slack jaw, she ran her fingers over the strange gauzy fabric, surprised that Loki had turned the gold-colored dress into a deep emerald. As if to explain this change, Loki merely said, "Gold does not suit you nearly as well as green."

Zora lifted her chin to stare at him once more, but he was already gone.

Gods fucking fuck. That man was so confusing.

000

Zora was completely out of her element and unsure what the fuck she was supposed to be doing. After Loki had so unceremoniously helped her with the dress, which already went beyond her embarrassment threshold for the night, she had meandered through the winding palace halls and finally found herself at the banquet.

But she couldn't find Bjorn anywhere. Which made her feel like a fucking fool, because she had agreed to let him escort her, or be her date, or whatever the hell that meant. So she wandered around the massive white-marbled banquet hall alone, trying very hard to ignore the gawking and staring of the Vanir she passed by, whilst wishing that someone would swoop in and save her from further embarrassment.

That someone, of course, turned out to be Loki.

"Lost?"

Just one syllable and she knew it was him. She would always know that voice. It was so velvety and smooth and… and gods. It was annoying. It was so annoying.

Spinning on her heel, Zora found herself face-to-face with the demi-god. She hoped her relief at seeing him wasn't too evident in her expression. "No," she lied. "I'm just… exploring."

He grinned at her, tasting the lie as soon as it passed her lips. "Is that so? I can leave you to it, then."

He turned to leave and Zora hated herself for grabbing his arm and pulling him to a stop. She did not want to be left alone in a crowd of strangers on a foreign realm. "Uh, no, it's fine… Actually, have you seen your cousin?"

Loki's green eyes danced with mirth. "You mean your escort for the evening? No, I have not."

"Lady Zora?" Thor asked, gliding up to her and Loki with Jane on his arm. His brow was furrowed and he looked about their immediate vicinity for someone else. "Has Bjorn been called away?"

Now Zora was confused. "What?"

"Bjorn," Thor restated, as if she couldn't recall the name of the light elf prince who had asked to accompany her. "He should be with you. It isn't proper for him to have asked for the honor to escort you, yet leave you alone."

Beside her, Loki was snickering. Zora glared at him askance. "What did you do to him?"

His snicker was easily replaced by an innocent scoff. "Me? Why would I have done something to him?"

Thor, too, crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Loki. I swear, if you have harmed him in any way – "

Loki rolled his eyes. "Ugh, you are all so boring." Then he gave a wave of his hand. Bright green magic swirled around his palm before winking out of existence.

Jane voiced Zora's unasked question. "What was that?"

"That," Loki answered in a long-suffering manner, "was me relinquishing my only form of entertainment for the evening." He gave Zora a pointed look. "You're welcome."

Just moments later, a harried looking Bjorn nearly ran into the banquet hall, his entrance obvious to all in the room. Zora watched as the young prince scanned the room, his pale grey eyes searching from one end to the other, before landing on her. The crowd parted ways as he crossed towards her, and the elf didn't even bother to glance at anyone else. It was in this moment that Zora understood the true meaning of the trashy romance novel phrase "he had eyes only for her". She could read in the light-elf's face his desperation, his fear, as he approached her, not evening taking in her company.

"Zora Haque," he said, his eyes scanning her form. Taking in the beautiful gown before returning to her green-eyed gaze. "My lady. I must profusely apologize to you. You must think me horrendous, and I can't even refute the charge – how I managed to be so locked within a dream that I couldn't wake, not even in a timely manner to escort you – "

"Bjorn," she said, cutting him off abruptly. She had heard enough. The light-elf snapped his jaw shut, expecting a thorough verbal lashing from her. Zora, instead, turned her glare to Loki. "I don't think you were at fault, your highness. In fact, I'm quite certain your cousin played a mean trick on you."

Suddenly realizing the others around them, Bjorn's gaze darted over to the trickster god briefly, putting two and two together as soon as he saw the raven-haired prince's smirk. "Loki," he growled out, shaking his head. But his ire depleted just as soon as it had arrived – Bjorn sighed severely in resignation, his head hanging low. "I should have known. No other has the ability to conjure such a strong spell."

Loki's smirk only widened. "I shall take that as a compliment."

"Of course you will," Jane, beside Zora, muttered darkly.

But Zora was impressed with the light-elf's cool-headedness. He was the first being she had ever witnessed to be victim to Loki's caprices and yet not lash out at the demi-god for it. Even Thor was liable to do so, if Loki pushed him far enough. But Bjorn…

"You're really just a nice guy, aren't you?" she asked accidentally-out-loud, but the mistake was well worth it. Bjorn's head cocked to the side, his expression truly innocent, as he tried to judge whether Zora was being sarcastic or not.

At last deeming her to be genuine, Bjorn simply asked, "Do I not seem that way to you?"

"You do," Zora said, boldly taking the light-elf's hand, flashing Loki a heated gaze as she did so. And she didn't miss the way his eyes burned. The way he glowered at Bjorn's blossoming smile or how her hand trailed up his arm to wrap around his bicep. But she could die on this mission and Bjorn was straightforward and kind, and couldn't she just have this one night? "Why don't you show me what it is that the Vanir drink?"

Bjorn bowed his head to her but couldn't hide his relieved grin. "Of course, my lady. As you command."

000

It was only half an hour later that the Asgardian traveling party was seated at an absurdly long, thick-wooded banquet table, a feast stretching from one end of the table to the other. There were so many people around them; ladies and gentlemen of the court, Zora guessed, stealing glances at the two Asgardian princes, at the Warriors three and the odd mortals, and especially at their own prince, whose gaze remained steadfastly on Zora, herself.

To say she was feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the attention would be a grave understatement. So when Bjorn next spoke, pulling her from these thoughts with a statement she never expected to leave anyone's lips, was it really her fault that she nearly choked on the piece of meat she'd been chewing?

"I'm sorry, what?" Zora asked with very little propriety, having gulped down her chalice of water in order to swallow the piece of meat. All eyes turned to her – gods, she couldn't catch a break. Loki was grinning the most sinful smile he owned, Jane's brow was also furrowed in confusion, Thor stared oddly at his cousin, and Bjorn himself seemed nervous that he'd offended Zora.

"I apologize, Lady Zora," he was quick to say, sitting up impossibly straighter. Gods, were those light-elf-puppy-eyes he was giving her? "What I meant to say was… you have a curious parentage about you. I can't quite get a read on it."

Zora stared at him, mouth open. Uh… What did someone say to that?

Loki decided to butt in with a snigger. "Zora, I do believe my cousin is deeply insulting you."

Her eyes flashed over to his. Oh, he thought this was funny, did he? Bjorn, on the other hand, turned a lovely shade of pink in his embarrassment. Panicked, he ducked his head, "No – please don't misunderstand me, my lady. I sincerely apologize if I've offended you. I simply sense something curious about you."

Thor stepped in to further explain his cousin, shooting a dark look at Loki. "What Bjorn means, Lady Zora," Thor said, refocusing his attention on her, "is that he has the gift of seeing souls."

Zora's jaw dropped. But why should she be so surprised? She was sitting in the palace of a foreign realm with three outlandishly handsome princes, being waited on hand and foot because she was a daughter of a crazy prophecy, on her way to Hel at the bottom of the World Tree to slay the Goddess of Death. Was seeing souls such a strange thing, after all that?

"I…" she paused, sipped on her water some more to buy herself some time. Realized Bjorn was waiting anxiously for her input, still uncertain if he had offended her. "I didn't know that was possible. Why do you say I have a 'curious parentage'?"

All the others at the table around them, particularly Loki, Thor, and Jane, leaned forward with interest. Bjorn cleared his throat, his eyes returning to Zora, scanning her form as if he were not necessarily seeing her body, but something deeper. "You are not mortal," he answered after several beats. Zora's stomach coiled up, but was this really a surprise to her? No. No, it wasn't. Somehow, she'd known. "You are not Aesir or Vanir… or any other race that belongs on the World Tree."

That, however, was shocking. Apparently, Zora wasn't the only one who thought so. Loki sat back in his chair, dumbfounded but absorbing the information hungrily, his eyes pinning Zora to her seat. She felt so bare under his gaze. Thor and Jane exchanged confused looks. Bjorn just seemed sheepish for pointing the matter out at all.

Zora couldn't help but think of her mother. The very woman who had warned Zora, so so long ago, that she was connected to things. Things she didn't yet understand. Was her mother even her mother? And if not… Did the woman Zora call mother know who her true parents were?

Now wasn't the time to ask all the questions forming inside her head. They were personal. Too personal. She'd have to wait. Collect herself, think over what she wanted to know. Did she even want to know?

How much more could she handle being thrown at her?

000

"You have been quiet all evening, cousin," Bjorn said conversationally to Loki, joining the Asgardian prince in the corner of the room, a mead in hand. Loki bristled at the intrusion, his eyes following the graceful circles that Zora Haque made as she danced with one nobleman and then the next. It seemed that, even here in Vanaheim, the War-Breaker was celebrated as a true friend and hero of the realm. And everyone wanted to get their hands on her, which was making Loki decidedly… frustrated.

Ignoring his new company, Loki continued to watch Zora. He told himself that he was merely keeping an eye on the War Breaker, ensuring no harm might come to her so that they may continue on with their journey, so that Asgard's fate would not fall into ash, but he knew, deep down, that he was simply too enamored to look away. Jealous of all those who danced with her that was not him. She smiled as an older light elf twirled her. A smile that was so open and carefree and happy. A smile he, himself, would never be graced with by her.

Bjorn followed his cousin's stare into the dancing crowd. "You have an odd sense about you, Loki," Bjorn said absently, eyes never leaving the object of both their affections. "You have been touched by something beyond the Void."

Loki's blood ran cold. He stopped breathing altogether, barely keeping up his veneer of disinterest. Could his cousin truly see that within him? Something… different?

Giving a sharp smirk, showing no weakness, Loki finally gave the light elf his full attention. "Is that so, cousin? Tell me... Do you see something dark within my soul, now? Am I tainted?"

He was ready to hear it. That there was something truly evil inside him now. Something lost to the universe. Part of himself he would never get back. But nothing could have really prepared him for Bjorn's next words.

"No," the light elf said softly. Gray eyes looked at Loki – looked beyond Loki and into that realm of souls that only Bjorn was privy to – and snaked down towards Loki's hand. A furrow appeared between the elf's white eyebrows. "I see a golden string that ties your pinkie to Zora's."

The air all but left Loki. He struggled to keep his visage schooled into one of impassivity. But he needed to hear that again. He needed… "What?" he asked, sounding far more dumbfounded than he cared to admit.

Bjorn frowned. His light eyes traveled back across the room, to the woman who could so easily steal hearts. "You heard me correctly, Loki." And he sounded… mournful. "Of course, the Norns can tie souls together for various reasons. They need not be romantic in nature." Gray eyes locked onto sharp emerald. "Perhaps yours is not."

Perhaps it is, the more hopeful aspect of Loki thought desperately.

"I suppose only time will answer this for us," Bjorn continued. He gazed at his cousin determinedly. "I am no coward, Loki. You know this. And I believe that the woman you won't even share your true affections for is worth all the realms in Yggdrasil. I believe she is worth the truth. If I must face fate and lose, then so be it. But I will at least try. She deserves as much, don't you think?"

000

After dancing for countless songs with men and even women whose names she was quickly mixing up inside her head, Zora felt exhausted down to her bones. Exhausted, indeed, but elated. Happy. She hadn't thought a feast in a foreign realm with the weight of Yggdrasil's fate sitting heavy on her shoulders could go well… but it did. And it was all thanks to the realm's prince, himself.

She smiled as she watched him approach from the other side of the massive room, where he had left a sour-faced Loki behind. It took all of her willpower not to stare at the raven-haired prince and wonder what had caused him such trouble that he looked visibly disturbed and instead to focus on the bright-haired, bright-eyed elf coming her way.

"Your gown," Bjorn said as soon as they were merely feet apart, "suits you well, my lady. You look stunning. If I may be as bold to say so… you would fit in well, here, in the Vanir court."

Zora's heart fluttered, stuttered, nearly stopped. "What?"

Bjorn smiled shyly. He tugged absently at the feather that was tied prettily into his white hair. "Forgive me. I mean that this evening… it suits you well. You look happy, if I may say."

Did he have to be perfect in every way?

Not so invested in being completely unreadable and enigmatic that she couldn't ever understand how he felt towards her? Not hiding behind a sharp, sometimes stinging wit, a self-deprecating sarcasm, a broodiness that no one could compete with?

Why was Bjorn so lovely and kind?

And moreover… Why was Zora only able to circle back to thinking about Loki?

Smiling again at the Vanir prince, Zora nodded. "I am happy," she agreed, though her eyes darted to a pale-faced Loki many, many feet away, whose gaze was already pinned on her. She felt a jolt in her heart and desperately tried to ignore it. Turned back to such beautiful gray eyes. "And I must thank you for it. After tonight, things may never be like this again… but I am happy to have had this night."

And she was. She was so thankful for it. Because it was true. These could be her last nights alive. And to be able to be happy, even for only a little while… it was precious.

Bjorn frowned deeply. "You mustn't think that way, my lady. You are the War Breaker. You are exceptional. Hela is a vile creature with no morals, no honor. You will slay her, and you will hopefully think to return to visit me sometime, again."

His confidence was sweet. His invite gave her butterflies. But she couldn't find the same certainty within herself.

"May I ask you something?" she decidedly changed the topic.

His smile returned. It was blinding. Pure and charming. It was no wonder so many light elf women kept glancing his way, hoping to catch his eye. "You may ask me anything you like, Lady Zora, and I will do my best to answer you."

Zora's throat bobbed. She lowered her voice. "You can see souls. Can you see where they end?"

She hated to wipe that charming smile away again, but it happened once more. Bjorn's visage grew concerned. Confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

She twiddled her thumbs together. "What I mean to ask is… can you see how I die? Or when?"

Silence. Glancing up from where she was staring at her soft Vanir slippers, she found Bjorn shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "No," he said softly, warily. "I am not gifted with that ability. The elder, Rodax, returned from a long mission in Hel many years ago with that terrible gift. He has carried it as his burden ever since."

Zora perked up at the information. She tried not to look too eager, she really did, but she was afraid she was failing miserably. "Can you take me to see him?"

Bjorn's already pale skin lost even more color. "Tonight?"

"Yes," she answered quickly. "As soon as we can go."

He tugged on the feather again. Pretty lips were pulled down into such a deep frown that Zora worried she had actually offended the prince. But when he blinked at her, it was with concern. Concern only for her. Taking a small step forward, Bjorn closed some distance between them and slowly, gently, gathered one of her hands in both of his. He flipped her hand over, palm up, and traced the lines that marred otherwise smooth skin with his index finger. His touch sent a shiver down Zora's spine. Pleasantly.

When was the last time someone had touched her so… reverently?

Looking up at her through near-white eyelashes, Bjorn continued to frown. "If that is what you desire, Lady Zora, I can take you to him. But I must warn you… Nothing good has ever come from being read by Radox. His visions are often confusing and fractured, but they are always correct. Our deaths, however they may be written by the Norns, are inevitable."

"That doesn't scare me," Zora breathed out, wondering if she'd just told a lie or not. Did it scare her? Maybe a little. But she had this desperate need to know.

He flipped her hand back over again. Interlaced his fingers with her, though with a cautious look, giving her every moment needed to object if she wanted to. She didn't. Thoughts swept back to long, pale fingers that belonged to another prince from another realm, but Zora shoved them aside, pushed them away. Loki wasn't hers.

"It frightens me," Bjorn admitted softly. "Radox is mad in the head. He isn't safe to be around. I will have to stay with you during the reading." He said this as if she would reject the idea outright. But he didn't understand how desperately she wanted to know if this mission would be her last. If it would be… there were things she needed to do. To say.

"I understand."

He nodded once. "Then let me take you."

000

Radox, the death-reader, lived deep within the palace. He kept mostly to himself, Bjorn told her as he led her through winding marble halls, his hand never once leaving hers. The elder found solace in solitude, peace in silence. He lived at the other end of the palace where only a few curious and brave-hearted servants dare venture anymore. Zora thought the man sounded more like a fairytale creature than an elder light-elf who had gone to Hel and back and survived.

"Father lets him stay here because he feels guilty, I think," Bjorn continued to talk, to tell her things she hadn't really asked about or thought of, if only to fill the silence. Anxiety rolled off of him in waves – Zora didn't need to be a soul-reader to see that the white-haired prince was nervous. "It was under my father's orders that Radox went to gather intelligence in Hel. The man was missing for a century. Presumed dead. When he arrived back at the palace a hundred years later… my father was in shock. And Radox was a changed man."

Zora's heart twinged. It was a sad story, of course. Terrifying, really. She had known since those few quiet moments before she and Loki stepped through the portal into Vanaheim that she would never come back from Hel the same woman. But to hear about this man, about what had happened to him… She was scared.

Bjorn led her up a cramped, winding staircase lit sparsely by lamps here and there; their shadows played off the white marble walls like ghosts. Her heart was throbbing in her throat, fear making her hand grasp at Bjorn's tighter. When they stopped outside a massive red door, Bjorn blocked her passage and looked at her somberly.

"We can still turn back, my lady," he offered, but she could see that he knew she would refuse this. His anxiety, however, just made hers worse. "This isn't something you must do."

"It is," she assured him. Herself.

Bjorn nodded in resignation and stepped aside. Zora sucked in a steadying breath and pushed the door open, prepared to have her death read.

000

"Brother," Thor said carefully as he approached the brooding raven-haired prince. Thor's presence made Loki want to snap and snarl – couldn't anyone just leave him to his thoughts? "I was hoping you and I could share a word."

"That was eleven words," Loki pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning further back into the marble wall. "So are we finished?"

Thor rolled his eyes. "No." He joined his brother, mimicked his stance.

Loki heaved a sigh – he had already witnessed Bjorn in his attempts to win over Zora just a few minutes ago, going as far as to hold her hands, to lead her away to some unknown destination. Loki had half a mind to follow them, but his gut had seized up and forced him to stay put. What if he found them together? In a sense that Zora would never consider to be with Loki?

No, he had stayed put. Let her be charmed by his fairer, more agreeable cousin. Let her be swept off her feet. Loki, himself, would never be able to match up. It was better to accept this now.

But the golden string, his subconscious reminded him. The golden string that tied his pinkie to Zora's, a clear sign that the Norns had tied their souls together. The golden string. The crooning trinket in his pocket. The ache in his heart.

"You haven't even attempted to properly court her," Thor finally spoke up, jolting Loki from his mournful thoughts, "and yet here you are, already giving up." Thor fixed the raven-haired prince with a hard, blue gaze. "That doesn't seem like the brother I grew up with."

"I'm not the brother you grew up with," was Loki's automatic response. He didn't even have to think about it. The words were formed and leaving his lips of their own volition.

Another eye roll from Thor. "Given your melodrama, your brooding, and your clear love for the War Breaker, I'd say you are."

Oh, that hit a nerve. Loki's fists balled up at his sides; he stood straighter, faced his not-brother, glared. "I do not love the War Breaker. Don't waste my time with such nonsense."

The crown prince grinned, and if Loki wasn't mistaken, there was even a hint of mischief in that grin. "Whatever you say, brother." Thor patted Loki on the shoulder. Consolingly. Gods, Loki was angry. "Is that why you're over here, fretful and alone, while our dear cousin leads Zora to the death-reader?"

Loki's heart nearly stopped. "The death-reader?" Radox? What in the Nine could she possibly… Why would she… "Do you know this for certain?" Loki demanded, rounding on Thor once more.

Thor was resolute. With a grim nod, he added, "Fandral overheard their conversation."

"Radox is mad," Loki ranted. How could she possibly think going to a death-reader was a good idea? What was she thinking? What was Bjorn thinking? "He could fill her head with lies. He could undermine our mission entirely."

"Or he could tell her a truth she's not yet ready to hear."

Loki barely heard his brother's words. He was already storming off in the direction of the mad-elf's quarters.

000

Bjorn should have mentioned that the light-elf elder known as Radox had red eyes. He really should have mentioned that. Was it common for light-elves to have such oddly colored eyes? Regardless, she couldn't stop staring. Nearly clutched at her chest and made the sign to fend off the devil. Because those eyes. So red. Like fire from the very pits of Hell, itself.

Bjorn kept a firm hold on Zora's hand as the pair folded themselves down onto satin floor-pillows, sitting before a massive table alit with candles. It was like a scene out of a movie, to her. Goosebumps pebbled her arms.

"We apologize for bothering you so late in the evening," Bjorn was saying kindly to the elder, who was mixing some sort of tea or elixir at the other end of the room. "But my friend here will only be staying this one night."

Radox hummed to himself. So far, Zora hadn't seen anything about him – other than the red fucking eyes – that made him seem crazed. To her, he was a quiet, eccentric old man. He returned to the table with one cup of a dark-colored liquid, which he held out to Zora.

As Zora made to accept the cup, her eyes locked onto his. So red. Terrifying, really. But the terror was only in the color. The elf was looking at her like one might look at an interesting artifact in a museum. Pondering. Inquisitive. Accepting.

"Indeed," Radox agreed with Bjorn. "Zora Haque, War Breaker of Yggdrasil, leaves at dawn. The walls have whispered as much to me."

Okay. Yeah. That was actually a little terrifying.

Catching the look of fear on Zora's face, the red-eyed elf barked in laughter. He laughed and laughed, even wiping at a stray tear on his face, as he joined them in sitting on the floor. "Ah, your face, child. You are so spooked!" Another laugh. Zora stared at the Vanir prince for help, but he looked just as confused. "By the Norns, the walls don't whisper, not even to me. I heard it from the servant girl who delivered my supper."

Zora released her breath. Was the elf seriously fucking with her right now? For a laugh?

"I thought you were supposed to be crazy," Zora muttered, staring down into the dark-amber liquid she'd been given. "Not an asshole."

Radox laughed even harder. "Yes, to many, I am considered quite mad. An 'asshole', as you've just said, has never passed any of my visitor's lips, on the other hand. How interesting. In your realm, this is an insult?"

"Of sorts."

"I shall remember it, then. Bjorn's uncle is quite the asshole."

Bjorn sputtered, then laughed. Zora's eyes widened. This man was joking with them. Why did Bjorn paint this red-eyed figure to be someone dangerous, someone to avoid? Gods, so far, he just reminded her of her foul-mouthed grandfather who had been terribly endeared to practical jokes.

"But yes, in all seriousness, my child, I am quite mad." The elf tapped his head with a knobby index finger. "Hel has invaded my mind."

"Hel is my next destination," Zora told him.

The red-eyed elf sat back. Considered Zora once more. "I am aware. You are the War Breaker. Foretold to slay the Goddess of Death. So you have come here hoping to learn of what fate might await you in Hel?"

"Yes."

Radox nodded. Gestured towards her cup. "Sip on that, my dear. It will help me read you more accurately."

Zora stared down at the liquid again. Smelled it, face scrunching up. Gods, what was in this thing? Did she even want to know? "Uh…"

"Is that necessary?" Bjorn asked on her behalf, eying the liquid with as much skepticism as Zora. "It looks… ah, how shall I say… rather questionable."

Radox laughed again. Ah, now she could see a bit of his madness. "Of course it isn't necessary! In fact, don't drink it, child. 'Tis merely a prop. While the muddled eye of a bilgesnipe is certainly not bad for one's health, I don't think a warrior as young as yourself is yet in need of it."

All right, no. Zora placed the cup on the table quickly, pushed it as far away from herself as possible. She still didn't know what the fuck a bilgesnipe was, but if there was a muddled eyeball in that fucking drink, it was not coming anywhere near her.

Another bark of laughter.

"Can you actually read deaths, or do you just prank people?" Zora asked, more bite in her tone than she'd intended.

Radox grinned at her. He was missing several teeth. "I have already read your death, Lady Zora. The moment you stepped in this room, I could read it on you. Your skin… it crawls with it. Your eyes shine with it. And your soul… curious as your soul is, your soul whispers it to me."

Now she didn't know if he was fucking with her again or not, but still, more goosebumps rose on her arms. She didn't even realize she'd leaned forward with interest, both hands resting on the table, until she was close enough to a candle to smell its incense.

"Are you joking right now or are you being serious?"

"Deathly serious, I'm afraid." A chuckle at his own bad joke. "But indeed, I have read it. However, you may not like to share in my knowledge, War Breaker. Are you certain you would like to know your fate?"

Her stomach was tangled in knots. She felt half like she would be sick and half like she would faint. Did she want to know her fate? Yes. Yes and no. Because if she was going to die in Hel, she had things to do, to say. There was someone who deserved to know something, a raven-haired prince who needed to know he was not so alone in this world.

Bjorn interlaced their fingers once more, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You can say no, my lady."

But she was never the type to get close to something she'd wanted and then back away. Not even if it terrified her straight to her core. "Tell me," Zora demanded.

Radox nodded. His eyes were somber, glowing like hellfire in the candle light. "Zora Haque," the elf enunciated her name clearly, slowly, "does not die."

Silence. Zora ran his words through her head again and again. Beside her, Bjorn's brow was furrowed.

"What do you mean?" Bjorn demanded, his grip tightening on her.

Zora felt nauseous.

"I mean what I say, young prince." Radox stared at Zora until she met his gaze again. "Zora Haque does not die. The Norns have said so."

000

Loki knew that, by the time he reached the mad-elf's quarters, he was too late. The door was closed, but muffled voices could be heard inside. Fear clenched his gut, his very soul. What lies could the elf be feeding Zora? What poison could he be infusing her mind with? Why would his cousin take such a precious woman to someone so vile?

He paused before the door, prepared to barge in, but afraid for an entirely new reason as a sudden thought struck him.

If he walked into that room, if he allowed Radox to see him at long last, the mad elf would know something about Loki that no one else knew: how the raven-haired prince would die. Radox would know. And in Loki's world, knowledge was power. Especially such intimate knowledge.

Was Zora worth putting himself at risk like that?

Heart made up far before his mind could digest what he was about to do, Loki shoved the doors open and stepped inside. Three pairs of eyes turned towards him in varying degrees of shock; the familiar gray eyes of surprised and currently guilt-ridden Bjorn, the sharp and chillingly intelligent green eyes of the woman who haunted his every waking and sleeping hour, and the piercing red gaze of the one Loki had to assume was Radox, zeroed in on Loki in the same way Bjorn once used to be, when the young light elf prince had first learned to read souls.

Loki's gaze at once returned to Zora, whose face was unsettlingly pale. She blinked up at him as if she were simultaneously relieved and horrified to see him.

"Zora." Her name fell from his lips like a hiss. Anger so strong, so powerful, welled up inside of him that he could do nothing but growl as Bjorn stood and attempted to intercede on the woman's behalf. Realizing that Loki's ire was not to be trifled with in that moment, Bjorn snapped his jaw shut and stepped back.

"Zora," Loki repeated. He didn't spare a glance back at the death reader, though he could feel the elf's eyes on him as if they were peering into his very soul. And in a way, they were. "Get up. Now."

Uncertainty swirled in the woman's fern-green eyes. She hovered about, unsure whether to stand as Loki had demanded or remain seated. The foolish girl couldn't even comprehend the nature of his anger. Couldn't see what danger she was in.

"Loki – "she tried, but he held up a hand.

"No," he cut her off. "You don't understand what is truly happening right now. So stand. Come, now. Follow me."

Zora stood stiffly. Her upper lip was curled, clearly at his presumptuous and demanding tone, but she complied nonetheless. Loki's hand hovered protectively over her lower back as he guided her from the room and out into the hall. Now that she had been removed from the immediate area, he settled the full weight of his glare on Bjorn.

"You and I will have words later, cousin." Bjorn's already paper-white skin turned impossibly whiter. The threat in Loki's tone was clear. His cousin gave a sharp, affirmative nod. The fact that the prince didn't even bother arguing with Loki spoke volumes: something had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

He didn't even want to spare the blasted death-reader a waste of words, so he turned on his heel to leave, shoulders held taut. Still, the mad-elf's voice made Loki stop.

"It is impossible to hide from Fate," Radox said to Loki's back. The door-handle in Loki's fist crumbled with his rage. "You will try to hide her from it, dark one, but it has already found her. And sunk its teeth in."

Loki's teeth were ground together so hard, he was amazed they didn't shatter. "If you come near her again," he said lowly, drawing on every ounce of his willpower to keep a steady voice, "I will slaughter you in ways you can't even imagine."

"I would be interested in seeing you try."

Having had enough, Loki stomped out into the hallway, took stock of the shivering and pale-faced Zora Haque, and grabbed her by the hand. It was about time they retired for the evening.

000

Zora Haque does not die. She was drowning in those words. Haunted by the red eyes that had looked so deeply into her own as they'd been spoken.

Everyone eventually dies. It was the nature of the universe, a law that even the long-lived Aesir could not escape. Death came for everyone. Death was inevitable.

So what did it mean? For the Norns, the very Fates themselves, to put Zora Haque above death?

Zora was jolted from her thoughts as a warm, feathery-like material was settled over her shoulders. She hadn't realized she was shivering. Hadn't noticed the chill that had settled into her bones, seeped into her blood, make her teeth rattle in her skull. When did she reappear back inside the room Bjorn had graciously loaned her for the evening?

The long, elegant fingers that clasped the cloak around Zora was answer enough. Loki. He had burst into Radox's living quarters, a rage unparalleled etched onto his face, to find her consulting with a death reader. Had demanded she leave immediately. Had given Bjorn such a scorching look that she wondered if the light-elf would show his face again in the near future or stay away in order to protect himself from the God of Lies' wrath.

"What?" Zora asked suddenly, realizing belatedly that Loki was guiding her to sit on her bed, treating her like a child in shock. She'd completely missed the last several sentences he'd spoken to her.

Loki looked on the brink of admonishing her but seemed to think better of it. Careful green eyes scanned her from head to toe, assessing. "You need to lay down," he instructed firmly, but gently.

"I need…" There was something she did need. Something, but she couldn't name what. Certainly not to lay down. Not now. "No. I need…"

"Zora," Loki said, crouching in front of her. Concern made the edges of his eyes crinkle up. "I think you're in shock. What did he say to you? It's lies, all of it. Rest assured that nothing that creature says is true. He's a madman and a fraud."

Zora blinked owlishly up at Loki; even crouched, he was taller than her. She realized that he was gripping her hands like she might fall away from him at any second. He was desperate to know what Radox had said, that much was clear.

But she couldn't open her mouth and repeat those words. She needed to process them.

"Where's Bjorn?" she asked suddenly, glancing around the large room for any sign of the pale-haired elf.

Loki's frown only managed to deepen. "He could be rotting in the pits of Hel for all I care right now," the demi-god growled. "It was foolish of him to take you there."

"I asked him to," Zora explained, as if that made everything okay.

"Then you're foolish, too."

Another blink. She stopped her harried thoughts for a moment to observe the god before her. He was wane; stiff with anxiety, shaking with leftover rage. "Why are you so angry?"

The question seemed to eat away at the calm façade he was just barely cloaking himself beneath. Loki's jaw clenched. He squeezed her hand tighter a moment. "Radox is dangerous, Zora. You shouldn't have been allowed to go near him."

"No one 'allows' me to do anything," she said fiercely. "I do what I want."

"Is that so? Even if it means putting the fate of Asgard and the rest of Yggdrasil at risk? Putting our mission at risk?"

Zora stood. She wouldn't be condescended like this. Poking a finger into his chest, she snapped, "You mean putting our deal at risk? That's what you actually mean, right? Because that's all you care about. You didn't even want to help until something was in it for you. So don't talk to me like I'm a selfish child, Loki, and don't pretend you care what happens to me or the rest of the realms. I know why you're here, and it's not for either of those things."

Loki snarled at her. She genuinely thought he would lash out for a moment before he turned his back to her, his chest heaving as he tried to contain himself. "You infuriating woman!" He sucked in a breath. Pinched the bridge of his nose. Faced her once more. Zora's mouth dropped open at his expression – he was so angry, but also afraid. "I am not – I – "he stopped himself, collected another breath. Sharp emerald eyes cut into her. "I'm not here for that and you know it."

Her mouth snapped shut. Yet again, Loki looked so raw. So vulnerable. So opposite of the god that had held her prisoner. Even as he stomped towards her, hovered just inches away from her, their breaths mingling, Zora couldn't find it in herself to be afraid of him. She watched, awestruck, as he continued to speak.

"The Fates have tied us together, Zora Haque. You are mine to protect. Not Thor's. Not Bjorn's. Not even your own. Mine." His breathing was ragged. She realized that hers was, too. "Do you understand me?"

She struggled to say something. Anything. To even put her thoughts together on what he had just confessed. But before she could, the God of Lies was gone.