Sigyn stared in horror at the king, jerking and writhing on the ground. No telling how long she would have stood there, if Loki hadn't come and snatched the remote out of her hand. "This is the off button," he said loudly, pointing, showing it to everyone. "Get to it as soon as you can."

He blasted the remote with a coating of ice and set it on the floor.

"Now come on," he said, and tugged her along. "We need that food – let's get this done."

"Me?" she said – and immediately hated herself. What a stupid, stupid thing to say! Loki was physically dragging her along with him as he fled the scene, obviously he meant her, who else could he be talking about!

"Anyone," he said shortly. "Two people walking together is much less suspicious than one person sneaking around alone." He pulled her until they were out of the hangar, and the door had closed behind them. Then he let go, heaved a huge sigh, and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed.

"Are you… okay?"

"Yes," he said at once. "Just waiting for the battle to drain out of my blood."

He said battle, but she suspected that what he really meant was fear. She swallowed. "Is the king going to… be angry about this?"

"He'll probably kick my ass, but it's fine." He opened his eyes. "I won't allow him to lay a hand on you, though."

She had just seen Thor fell an entire battlefield by stomping on the ground, but when Loki promised to protect her from him, she felt completely safe. "Thanks," she said, as casually as she could. "So… Ready to sneak around?"

"In a minute – we need to disguise ourselves first. You did well, by the way. Not too fast on the trigger, and then you acted promptly when I told you to."

Which reminded her… "Thanks. But next time could you maybe say something other than peasant?"

He shrugged. "That was expedient; we can establish better code words later." He started sketching runes into the air. "Now here's your disguise. Sorry about this."

His magic was aggressive; she sneezed so hard her head spun. When she managed to look down at herself she discovered she was decked in gauze and sparkles, half naked… and very much grown up.

"Oh boy." She started covering herself instinctively, but her enormous illusory chest felt so strange that she found her hands squeezing at it instead.

Loki looked away. "Try to stop doing that," he laughed.

"Oh. Right." She giggled a little herself, and tried to stand normally. The chain belt decoration around her illusory hips clinked, and she touched it in wonder. "Wow. You do really good illusions."

Smirk. "I know." Then he cleared his throat and got serious. "Now: that getup will occupy everybody's attention. You'll wear these," he magicked a set of shackles, "And everyone will think you're a bed slave. Or-… whatever they call them here." He made a face. "Romance-oriented prisoners, I think. I'll be the scrapper, plain rags, who owns you."

"Okay."

"Don't speak unless I order it, don't make eye contact with anyone. Just walk with me and shake what I gave you. But mind the cuffs; if you pull on them they'll disappear."

"Okay."

Loki grinned at her. "You're much better suited to this than Thor. I put him in a form like that once and he completely hit the ceiling."

They were almost the same height now. It felt so strange to smile at him head on, instead of up from below. It made her stomach flutter hard, which made her realize: "I'm scared."

"See? Much better than Thor." He shimmered into his own disguise. "Let's go."


The girl kept close to him as they walked. Her courtesan slippers kept her footsteps silent, but her decorations jingled if he pushed the pace. So much the better – the more attention she drew the less there was for him. When people passed them and aimed noises of appreciation in their direction, he would nod a greeting while she lowered her eyes, bit at her (excessively full) bottom lip, and dipped a tiny curtsy.

Much better than Thor. Except, of course, for when they passed through hallways that were empty. During those times she would talk to him – and her words were more annoying than even his brother's.

"Do you really think the king is going to try and do something to me?" she said once. "Because, I'm just saying, the best way to prevent that would be to take me into your household officially."

He ignored her.

"Because, that way it would be my actual legal duty to obey you. So, I wouldn't be in trouble for anything you told me to do. It's a good idea, right?"

He ignored her.

"Loki? It would be really easy. You just agree to stand as parent for me. You'd just have to say it, you wouldn't have to actually do anything."

He ignored her.

"Loki?"

Damn, she was persistent. "My own experience with adoption was far from pleasant," he said, to end the discussion, "And I have no desire to recreate that dynamic with a stranger."

She banged her waist jewelry with her bound hands to make a discordant clang. "I'm not a stranger!"

"Be quiet."

She obeyed that, at least. They passed through a crowded recreation area and two more staircases before she spoke again.

"Anyway: what do you mean far from pleasant," she said after the long silence. "Odin loved you."

"Odin-." He bit back the rest. "I don't want to talk about Odin," he said instead. Of course she didn't know; he had made it impossible for anyone to know; he had spent two years weaving an elaborate story of a loving royal family and cramming it down everyone's throats. Odin sentenced me to eternal imprisonment, he wanted to tell her. And it would have been death if my mother-… pardon, if his wife, the woman who lied to me my whole life about all I held dear… if she hadn't intervened.

"Okay fine. But can we at least talk about-"

"Shut it – someone's coming." He reached for her and tugged her by the arm. "When they get near I'll drop something. Pick it up – and give them a show."

In this new, flamboyant form the girl was awkward and lacked grace, but even so, when she bent over it was a sight worth seeing. The four men who were passing them stopped to watch and whistle; one even looked like he might make a grab for her.

"Good job," he said once they were gone. "Now come on, we're almost there. The Hulk's old quarters are in this coming tower."

He didn't allow himself to wonder what he would do if the Hulk was not lurking in his old quarters as expected.

He was Loki. He would think of something.


Heimdall had been standing at attention for half an hour, outside the green berserker's door, pretending that he belonged here. Two people, some sort of patrol, had once stopped to ask what he was doing, but his answer: "Standing guard," plain and ominous, sent them away.

He waited because he knew the girl Sigyn was coming, and since she was feeling cocooned and protected, Loki must be coming too. When they finally arrived he gave a disapproving head-shake. "You should not shield yourself from me when we need to communicate."

Loki shrugged off a disguising charm. (Which made Heimdall notice that Sigyn still wore one. A distastefully suggestive form, but he understood the need of it; it would make travel through this den of hedonism much easier.). "I knew you could track the girl. Listen – there was trouble."

"I know." He had sensed death. But also victory. "You defeated large numbers. Do you think they have more patrols of that size nearby?"

"No idea. The old leader is gone, Thor just killed the old second in command. I have no idea who's in charge now and no idea how tightly the place is policed. We need to get what we came for and get the hell out of here."

"I agree." Just then a smash from within disturbed their conversation, so he explained it. "We fashioned a frame as planned and loaded it, but when it came time for the Hulk to drag it back to the ship he refused – he said he is home, and not leaving."

"He needs a little convincing, that's all." Loki cracked his neck. "Get your group and go help guard the ship – Thor can't be expected to defeat all comers by himself."

There was something untrustworthy about Loki just now… but he almost always reeked of deceit, and of late it seemed to be safe to trust him anyway. Heimdall nodded, and beckoned to the girl.

She shook her head and didn't move.

"Sigyn." Loki grasped her jaw – not gently. "I take risks, but not unnecessary and stupid ones. Go." Then he looked up. "Heimdall, take care of her. If Thor's upset about the circumstances under which we departed, tell him it was my fault – not hers."

"Of course." (He would pull the story from her mind momentarily.). He clasped Loki's hand, and through the contact was able to learn that although Loki was terrified, he had a plan. Something underhanded – he couldn't tell more than that. "Good luck, Prince."


TBC.

Okay, everybody put your helmets on for the next one… :-)