I deeply apologize for the long wait between chapters, but getting all these details and dialogue written out is proving more of a challenge than I expected (and I'm still not 100% happy with it, but eh). Thank you to those of you who are sticking with me! And thank you for all the faves, reviews, and alerts! Also, I really hate proofing my own work, so any mistakes in here are all mine and further prove my own fail.


Nearly seven suns had passed and Coyote had not once emerged from her quarters. All food brought to her door remained untouched. All visitors, including Frigga had been ignored. The last person to see the foreigner had been the queen's seamstress, but that had been days ago. She'd taken a small selection of gowns to Coyote's room, much to Loki's curiosity, and left more flustered than the prince had ever seen her. As she'd passed him (unnoticed in the shadows), he could hear her muttering about their guest's "difficulty" and "arrogance". Almost a week later and he was still curious, as was the rest of the palace, about what Coyote could possibly be doing for so long in such isolation. True, he hadn't sought her out since her proclamation that death would be more welcome than a life in Asgard, but he had quickly grown bored with Thor's constant questions about her as well as practicing the same spells and illusions he'd already perfected. Although he'd never say it aloud, he'd been given a very interesting plaything; the longer her absence went on, the more agitated he became.

Loki found himself at her door on the fifth day, the meal from the previous night still on the floor. Knowing that announcing his presence would be worthless, he simply listened for any small sound that might hint at what she was doing. Silence met his ears for a long moment, but was eventually broken by the faintest of whispers. He could not make out what was being said and not knowing something irked him. What annoyed him even more, however, was the little laugh that wafted through the heavy door. The only time he'd heard her laugh had been when she'd run with the palace horses just days prior. What could possibly be so amusing?

Changing into the form of a raven with barely a thought, Loki took flight out of the nearest window and circled around to one of the three that led into Coyote's apartment. The sight that met him was certainly not what he had expected.

The former goddess lounged on her bed, her posture alone radiating an air of ease and deservedness that even he did not possess. Remnants of Asgardian garb littered the space around her, including the floor. Her fingers worked nimbly, if a bit messily at stitching a scrap of gold cloth to a larger piece of green fabric. Her actions and smile were a mystery to the disguised prince, as was the presence of Huginn and Muninn, the Allfather's winged messengers and spies. His first thought was that Odin had sent them, a thought that inexplicably sparked a surge of anger towards his father; Loki could never have anything for himself without Odin trying to interfere. But looking at them and how they danced around in the nest of shredded clothing put his mind at ease: when they were spying, the birds remained intent on observing their quarry and looked for all the world to be statues or wisps of shadow. However, with Coyote they seemed almost playful. They were simply visiting, not gathering information to report back to Odin. He noticed small pieces of fruit that sat on the small table by the bed, most likely brought to her by the birds as the prepared meals were left to rot outside her door.

"Oh, hello, little one," Coyote cooed suddenly. Her gaze on him was unlike any she'd given since first setting foot in the palace. Bright copper eyes smiled at him as he sat on the windowsill, the corners of her mouth turned up in a brilliant smile. "I have not met you yet. It's nice to see another friendly face. Would you like to see what I am making?" He couldn't make out all the details, but she was clearly piecing together an ensemble of sorts from the butchered gowns. For what purpose, he had no idea; Frigga had remained silent on their guest since she had last spoken to her, but the queen had obviously been excited by something and was trying to maintain the secret. "It's part of my gift to Prince Loki." Gift? If he'd been suspicious of her before he most certainly didn't trust her now. What is she plotting? He shoved aside all thought when she continued. "But I won't tell you exactly what I'm giving him. I want it to be a complete surprise." He didn't like the way she said 'complete surprise', but he made sure he gave no indication of even understanding her words. His disguises were always flawless and he would not be done in by this stranger.

Loki also made sure to keep Huginn and Muninn within his sight at all times as Coyote continued to talk. Her voice seemed to belong to someone else as she spoke, her tone light and almost breathy. It soon became apparent that she craved company; she desperately wanted someone to talk to, but she did not trust anyone in Asgard (obviously)…except for birds, apparently. As the hours passed, Loki listening carefully for any information he may be able to use later, she continued tearing apart pieces of metal and fabric and combining them into some amalgamation that somewhat resembled a dress. She first spoke of Edun, of how the trees would grow tall and strong deep in the forests near her village and the power of the sandstorms in the deserts. Her favorite, though, was the moon. Ever-changing, yet simultaneously constant, the great shining orb had calmed her troubled minds many a night and provided a most welcome distraction during her evening lessons and preparations. "The moon here is but a poor imitation of my moon, my friends. This one is as dull and listless as a grain cake, but my moon is vibrant and alive. But it is lost to me now, along with everything else."

Her tone turned from exuberant (far more lively than Loki had thought possible) to melancholy as she began recalling less-than-pleasant memories. "You know, I don't even know who my mother and father are," she admitted with downcast eyes, her fingers slowing their work. "They abandoned me to the temple as soon as they saw my deformities, or so I'm told. I suppose I cannot blame them. If my child had been born with ears like mine and a dog's tail I would have panicked as well. But to sentence a child to a life of servitude because of something she cannot control?" Her words became tinted with repressed anger as she gave voice to thoughts that surely must have plagued her for her entire life. "I have heard what others said about me when they thought I could not hear, how I am so blessed to live a life of ease in the temple, how wonderful it must be to be a living deity." She ripped a scrap of black material with more force than necessary. "As if they know. As if they know what it is like to never be given a moment of privacy, to be thought of as some magical being who can perform miracles on a whim or make everything right with the world. Now that I think of it, I've never been my own person. I've always belonged to the gods or the people of Edun or the priests." She let out a short growl in derision. "If everyone could see me now, they'd think differently about what it is truly like to be a 'goddess'. Except Tova." Once again she stopped her work on the dress, looking down at her visitors with a sad smile. "Tova was the only one not impressed by my appearance or my title. She was the only one who dared come near me on the journey here. She even argued with me when I told her to leave me be. The only one to ever fight me was Cathl…the head priest, but he was nothing more than a fool. Tova was kind to me even when I was being difficult. She was the closest to a friend I ever had. I miss her."

Loki could empathize with her predicament; although he was usually able to slip past most eyes (even the all-seeing Heimdall on occasion), the nature of his station and title made it nearly impossible to live his life exactly the way he wanted. It also made the possibility of having true friends almost nonexistent; Sif and the Warriors Three only spoke to him because he was Thor's brother and their king's son, not out of any genuine friendship. It was that lack of companionship and more than a little curiosity that led him to create Sleipnir if he were honest with himself. Not liking the road his thoughts turned down, he ruffled his feathers to shake them away. Cry me a river, he thought harshly.

"Oh, I must be rambling again," Coyote chuckled, also shaking the painful memories from her mind. "My apologies, my friend. I am not normally so gloomy, I promise." She reached out to touch his back but he dodged her, still unsure of her intentions. Huginn squawked at him, startled by the sudden move. "Would you mind fetching me one more thing, my friends?" Odin's spies came to attention, prompting Loki to mimic their stances to retain his disguise. "I need a few pieces of thin metal that cling when struck. Part of my gift requires music." Huginn and Muninn quickly departed before she could even attempt to explain the word "cling". "Clever creatures," she murmured with a small smile. "And may I ask a favor of you?" Loki made no sound as his suspicion increased. "This is the most important part of the prince's gift. I will repay you threefold if you bring me what I ask. What say you?" He cawed once in reply. Let's see where this goes. Coyote held her hands up, measuring less than a foot between her palms. "Would you bring me a blade about this long?" The disguised prince went as still as stone. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly. "Do not worry. I do not plan to use it on Loki. I wouldn't even know how!" That is the second lie, Loki thought, mentally filing the information away for later. Her first lie had been when she told him that she had been banished from Edun because of a prank on an ambassador's son when the truth was much more sinister. Now she told him she did not know how to wield a knife in order to cause harm? So how exactly did you kill you husband again? Oh yes: you stabbed him to death, and not with a drinking goblet or a book. "You see, on Edun blades are crucial to this kind of gift. I want to do this the right way all the way through. Please?" Loki ran through every possible scenario in his head, all of them culminating in her attempting to sheath the knife in his chest…or his back. She'd killed another in such a manner, so why not try it again.

But there was that small voice in his head that stilled all other thoughts: How far is she willing to go? You know she is plotting something, and whether it be your death or not you have the upper hand. You are far more skilled in combat and sorcery than she. If she did try to slay you, you could easily subdue her. Let's see exactly what she thinks she can do.

Loki took wing and went in search of a small dagger. He found one quickly and carried it back to Coyote. Huginn and Muninn had yet to return when he landed on her bed. Good. I don't need them reporting this back to Father. "Oh, that was fast!" Coyote beamed. She handled the knife delicately, her long fingers gliding along the silver metal with something akin to reverence. "We'll keep this just between you and me, my friend," she whispered, meeting his eyes as she spoke. She'd just stashed the dagger beneath her bedsheets as Odin's spies returned. They dropped their findings, two thin pieces of scrap metal from a blacksmith's shop judging by their quality, into her waiting hands. "These are perfect! Thank you!" All three watched in fascination as she used a hairpin from the dressing table to bore two small holes in each piece, then threaded a piece of torn cloth through them and tied off the loose ends. She slipped her middle finger and thumb through the loops and touched the metal together. They rang out, but apparently not to her liking. "Good enough, I suppose. Now all of you shoo. I need to try this thing on so I may give Prince Loki his gift tomorrow." She playfully chased Huginn and Muninn out the window, turning back to Loki when she saw he remained. "You, too, my friend," she chortled happily. "Only the prince is to see me in my new dress." It took every bit of willpower to force down the indignant I am the prince, ignorant barbarian. He made a swift exit, already plotting to counter whatever she was hoping to accomplish.


The message that Coyote wanted to present him with a gift to express her gratitude for his kindness had been delivered to him by a servant the next afternoon. Her message stated that he was to meet her in the dining hall at midnight so that only he would bear witness to her gift. He did not see her at all in the hours leading up to sundown, but that was perfectly fine by him. It meant he could go about his own plan unhindered.

Midnight finally arrived, and Loki was waiting for his guest in the dining hall, just as she had asked. The look on her face when she stepped through the doors, swathed in the same brown cloak she'd arrived in, was positively priceless. She sought him out with a glare that could have frozen a waterfall. "My lord Loki," she said with a tight voice. "I thought I had requested you meet me here alone."

His self-satisfied grin didn't leave his face as he approached her, leaning in close so the others could not hear. "So you did, however it would seem most…inappropriate for a prince of Asgard to be cavorting with a guest of your stature in the late hours of the night…alone. And besides, I'd so hate for your honor to become tainted with the rumors that like to fly from the lips of the servants and night owls." He pulled back before she had the chance to argue, raising his voice in a cheery tone that would have sickened him if it had come from anyone else. "Now! I am very curious to see what this mysterious gift is, aren't you, mother?"

Frigga smiled genuinely, seemingly unaware of the tension that had passed between her son and her guest. "Very much so! I have been eager to see it since you first mentioned it, Coyote."

"Yes, a gift from so lovely a creature as you should not be left solely for the enjoyment of someone who would not fully appreciate it," Fandral added with a good-natured thump on Loki's arm, positively delighted that Thor's stories of the girl's uniqueness weren't untrue.

"Fandral, stop trying to woo the poor girl," Sif interjected. She looked to Coyote with kind eyes, not knowing how the foreigner would react to the man's constant flirtations. "Don't mind him. He is more talk than anything else."

"My lady Sif, you wound me with your harsh words," the blond man replied in mock pain.

"Enough," Thor laughed. "Coyote has gone through much trouble to present my brother with a token of her gratitude. Let us allow her to present it to him then."

That was when the fear began to creep into her mind. What if she failed? What if she could not perform the dance with so many eyes upon her? Not only were Thor, Sif, and Fandral in attendance, but also two others she had not seen before (apparently more of Thor's friends) and the king and queen of Asgard themselves. She could no longer back out of this. She could only move forward. And the thought terrified her. But then she saw that look on the youngest prince's face, that spark in his eyes that only fueled her resolve to see this night through…to whatever end.

She forcefully shoved her rampant emotions to the side and put on a smile for her audience. "Very well. Your highnesses -" a slight bow to the princes "- your majesties -" a lower bow to Odin and Frigga. "I have come to realize that since arriving here in Asgard, my behavior has been deplorable. I have repaid Prince Loki's benevolence with suspicion and misplaced anger and hatred. I seek to rectify my mistake with a gift I have prepared solely for his pleasure." She chose to ignore the poorly hidden snickers from the younger men and instead focus all of her attention on Loki and his mocking gaze; it was as if he knew of her plan and dared her to carry on with it. She met his eyes with a hard stare and a forced smile. "If you would, my lord." She gently directed him to sit apart from the others, the better to ensure that only he would receive the best view…and to make it easier on her nerves to have the others to the side of her. She pushed the cloak from her shoulders to reveal the dress she had spent an entire week creating for this moment, earning appreciative gasps from Fandral and bearded Volstagg.

A haphazard combination of black leather, forest green cloth, and gold half-covered her body in such a way that exposed choice pieces of flesh at her hips, chest, and arms. She had taken special care to ensure the valley between her breasts was plainly visible through narrow laces that held the bodice together. Although she was still ignorant of the pleasures of flesh thanks to her sheltered upbringing, she was not unaware of the effect a woman's body had on those of the opposite gender. Threads hung from every scrap as evidence of her inexperience at fabric craft, but added an (unintentional) air of primal sensuality. Loki's reaction to her reveal was the same as Fandral's (who was still making noises that she tuned out for her own sanity), but with a far greater degree of control; after all, he'd already seen her nude body twice before. She saw his breath hitch in surprise and waited for his eyes to conclude their appraisal of her before speaking again.

Coyote's next words were meant solely for the youngest prince, as if they were the only ones in the room. "On my world, dance is our most sacred art form. I have borne witness to countless performances in my temple, each one with a different story. Although I am a poor substitute for true dancers, I wish to present you with one of my own making as remuneration for my poor behavior."

Now came the moment of truth. All eyes were on her, the silence in the dining hall deafening. She had to avert her eyes to the intricately designed floor just to gather her wits. A single deep breath and she took her first stance, arms over her head, wrists crossed, one hip thrown to the side. She tried to imagine the music that normally accompanied the dancers on Edun; all she had at her disposal was a sad excuse for cymbals, but she would do her best. With the echoes of drums and flutes playing in her head, she began to dance. Her steps were slow at first, due in part to her inexperience as well as her anxiousness. The focal point of her dance was her hips, followed closely by her hands. Once she found herself able to drown out the others, her confidence grew. Her bare feet caressed the cold floor as her hips rolled from side to side. Her hands twisted around each other with soft clangs of the makeshift cymbals breaking the stillness of the air. As her movements became faster and stronger, she was finally able to lift her gaze back to Loki.

The prince watched her with great interest, enraptured with the way her body moved. Had she not known who he was, she may have mistaken the gleam in those emerald eyes for lust, a look she had seen in another man many years prior. But he was not that man, nor like any other. He was the Liesmith, the god of half-truths and deception. That gleam was nothing more than arrogance, the look of a man who thought he had won some grand prize. The way he looked at her now added to her hatred of him and gave her steps new vigor. She would not be bested by this man!

With her dance coming to an end, Coyote stretched her body to its full length, her back arched, her waist long and lean, and her head tilted back. She shook her hair out as if to shake away stray pieces that fell out of place. In reality, the move was done to conceal what lay hidden beneath the minimal clothing as she held the pose for a long moment. Meeting Loki's eyes one last time with a stare as hard as stone, she let one hand slide down her curves before spinning quickly in several small circles. Her skirt flew out from her legs along with her long hair and tail, providing the perfect distraction while she retrieved the dagger from under her bodice. She kept it in hand, concealed by her flowing locks, and fell upon Loki.

From the view of the small group to the side, Coyote's stance (appearing to have fallen across Loki in a swoon, one hand entangled in his ebony hair, her own hair hiding their faces from sight) was nothing more than the conclusion of her dance. They began to applaud her, with Fandral and Thor shouting their appreciation. In truth, the prince and the foreigner were engaged in a silent battle for his life. The dagger's point pressed against his armor but went no further: he had grasped her wrist before she could deliver the blow and now held it in place. Although her strength was no match for his, she refused to back down and continued to try to drive the blade into his heart.

"Did you really think me to be so blind?" he taunted in a whisper. Coyote attempted to pull back but his free hand grasped the back of her head and kept her still, their faces close enough to feel each other's breath. "Or did you simply think yourself better than me?"

"I will not belong to any man," she snarled viciously. "I was a goddess! I cannot be given as one would give away a scrap of food."

Loki released her head, but only to grip her chin instead. "There are two things wrong with your perception: you were a goddess, but are no longer. And apparently, you can be given away." He silenced her oncoming protest with a final insult: a swift touch of his lips to hers. Before she could pull away her hurled her from him as easily as he would a handful of leaves.

"Brother!" Thor shouted.

"Loki!" Frigga simultaneously cried in shock. "What has come over you?"

He did not need to answer. Coyote soon recovered and rushed him again, only to be caught in his viselike hold once more. The dagger clattered to the floor as her hands became occupied with trying to pry his arm away from her neck. She continued to struggle against him even when Odin approached. "Loki, release her," he thundered. The prince obeyed, letting the foreigner fall to the Allfather's feet. Odin raised his spear to her throat, almost daring her to fight him. She did not. "I allow you to remain in my home as a guest, not as the slave you were intended to be, and this is how you repay my kindness? My son's generosity? Stand!" He kept Gungnir's point at her neck as she rose to her feet. A pair of guards that had been positioned just outside one of the many doors took hold of her arms as an added precaution. "The usual punishment for an attempt on the life of one of Asgard's royal family is immediate death."

"Then execute me," she yelled. "I would welcome death with open arms if it meant finally being free of this torture!" Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes as all the years of being imprisoned in one way or another caught up with her.

"Yes, my son has already informed me of your inclination towards the finality of death as an easy escape from what you perceive to be an unfair life. Therefore, I will make an exception this one and only time." Odin motioned for the guards to follow him as he led the way down a short hall and onto one of the numerous balconies that dotted the outside of the palace. None knew exactly what the Allfather had in mind for the former goddess, especially not Loki. Does he intend to pitch her over the edge? Father may be cold on occasion but he's certainly not that cruel. As much as she seemed to loathe him, he had to admit she was a fun distraction from the swirling emotions that built up within him every time Thor was praised for some small accomplishment or bedded some wench with little more than a glance. He shook the thoughts from his head when Odin spoke. "Coyote, for your misguided attempt on my son's life, your sentence will be thus." Without warning, her body lifted into the air and over the balcony's edge. But she did not fall. Instead, her arms stretched above her head, suspending her over the capitol city of Asgard by some invisible magic. A sharp cry of terror escaped her lips when she looked down at the hundreds of feet of empty air between her and the tallest structure on the ground. She snapped her eyes shut against the sight and tried to curl into herself. "You will remain here, high above my kingdom until I see fit to release you. This will be your first and only lesson in the ways of Asgard: do not mistake my kindness for weakness. Should you attempt to harm another citizen of my kingdom, especially one of my sons, your wish for death will be granted without hesitation."

And that was the end of it. He turned on his heel and left the others in stunned silence. Frigga was the first to break it, ushering Sif and the Warriors Three back inside before they could speak. Thor and Loki remained, the former looking at anything but the terrified woman hanging in midair. Loki's gaze did not leave her. In fact, he observed her with an intensity that puzzled even him. He took note of how tightly shut her eyes were, how she tried to hide them behind her upraised arm, the way she shook with tremendous force. The woman who climbed trees in the nude was scared of heights?

"Brother," Thor said suddenly, "were you aware that she was planning something like this?"

"You mean did I know that she would try to kill me under the guise of presenting me with a gift?" One glance at his older brother told him that Thor was conflicted about this punishment. "No, I did not." Not an entire lie. "I knew she was planning something, but nothing like this."

"How could she do something like this? How could she think she would get away with assassination?"

"She knew she wouldn't, and that was the point." Even though he addressed Thor, speaking the words aloud proved to be enlightening for Loki as well. "At our last meeting, she told me that death could not come for her quickly enough. And Heimdall was very vague, but from what I could gather there is a part of her that she conceals from the world for whatever reason. Perhaps the strain of being a living deity then handed over to a foreign prince as a trophy was simply too much for her and this was the only way she thought she could escape." He conveniently left out the part where he'd spied on her in his raven form and learned that she was more willing to speak freely among animals than any person.

"Surely she could not think that killing you was her only option."

Loki sighed. He always had to explain everything to his brother and it grew tiresome. "I cannot speak for her. Why not ask her yourself."

He'd meant it as sarcasm, but Thor took the advice to heart and approached the edge of the balcony. "Coyote!" he called over the wind. She flinched at the sound of his voice, drawing her knees up as far as they could go in her position. "Why did you not speak to anyone about the terms of your residence in Asgard?" Loki rolled his eyes. "Tell me why you believed that killing my brother would leave you free to do as you pleased?"

"Thor," the sorcerer warned.

The favored son ignored him. "I would have you answer!"

"Thor, look at her. She is too overcome with fright to understand you, let alone form a coherent reply." It was in that moment that Loki saw her in an entirely different light. Here was no goddess, no assassin, and no demon. Here was a terrified woman who, due to her sheltered life and her immense displeasure at being treated as more of an object than a person, believed that murder was the answer to her problems. "Let us leave her be for now. I will speak to father about her sentence in the morning."

Before returning to the warmth of the palace with his brother, Loki chanced one least look at Coyote, partly to see if her fear was nothing more than another act. Her eyes remained closed and her trembling only grew worse. How could one who climbed trees without a second thought be afraid of heights? She certainly was a curious puzzle. He would do his best to see the Allfather's sentence reversed, but it would take time and patience, along with her cooperation. Then she will in all likelihood remain there for decades.


For anyone who's curious, I based Coyote's punishment on a particular Greek myth. There was a time when Hera, queen of the gods, took part in a conspiracy to unseat her husband Zeus from the throne of Olympus. He found out and punished everyone. His punishment for his wife was to hang her in the sky with silver thread and two anvils tied to her feet. He eventually let her down after he couldn't take any more of her cries of pain, but only if she promised to respect and honor him forevermore. Let's see if that will be how Coyote gets down from her current predicament ;)