Chapter Twenty

Hermione had given Hannah her well-deserved raise and avoided her many questions (mostly pertaining to where she had been, what she'd been doing and if she was alright). She enjoyed the quiet of her office, sitting crossed-legged on the hard gray carpeting in front of a rather large package, ripping off the thick tape. The scent of fresh pages burst forth and she inhaled it deeply. It was perhaps her favorite part of the job. She ran her hands over the slick covers, lost in desire to pick them up to read them. It was her secret, that she would speed through one or two before they reached the shelves.

"You went to Asgard?!"

Hermione jumped, her heart nearly beating itself out of her chest. "What are you doing barging into my office?!"

Ginny stepped over the package and threw herself in the office chair. She was dressed in her dark green and gold Quidditch uniform, dirt crusting every inch of it. She pushed an escaped strand of red hair behind her ear, exhaling a disgusted huff at her friend.

"I thought you were in Bulgaria?"

"I thought you were in London," she retorted.

Hermione knew that was a fair response. She closed the flaps of the box, leaning her elbows on it. "I didn't mean to go to Asgard... The first time."

"Oh, spare me, Harry told me all about it. He also told me you brought something back with you. A god?"

Hermione blushed. "It's a long story, Ginny."

"I have time."

"Unfortunately, I don't -"

"You spend weeks in another realm, you can spend some time in this one with your friends."

She was right and Hermione knew it. "There's something I didn't tell Harry about the stone." She pointed her finger at her sternly, "don't tell him what I'm going to tell you."

Ginny leaned forward eagerly. "What about the stone?"

"It was a soulmate stone. Loki made it centuries ago."

She whistled lowly. "He waited for you for centuries?"

"Honestly, I think he gave up after the first few thousand." She shrugged.

"So you found your soulmate. And he's a god. And a prince. And the most mischievous, gray-area'd man in all the universes. Good job, Hermione. It could've been worse."

She laughed, and couldn't stop laughing. She thought of her absurd situation and the person waiting for her at home. It all seemed so surreal, that she hadn't actually took time to examine it.

Ginny watched her with interest. "You look happy."

"Are you saying I'm not a happy person?"

"You're a person that is very content, but not happy. He's brought out something in you. I think Harry was worrying over nothing."

"I know why he was worrying," she told her in whisper. She tugged her neckline down, showing Ginny the marks that remained.

Ginny whistled. "He did that?!"

"He's the rough sort. I didn't think it best to tell Harry about it."

"And you're smiling? Who knew..." Ginny stood, brushing off the clumps of dirt from her shoulder pads. "Don't worry, I won't tell Harry. I will tell him not to worry, though."

"Thank you, Ginny."

"You will be by mom's this Sunday, right? She's missed you. You can bring your god, if you like."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Gin. With what happened with Ron..."

"Mom got over that ages ago. She'd want to meet him."

Hermione nodded. "We'll be there."

Ginny winked at her and left.

Hermione spent the rest of her work day putting the new books away and helping many customers. When she left, she stopped by a local shop and bought dinner, but all thoughts of a private meal with Loki was extinguished when she opened her front door. Ginny was there on her couch with him, laughing.

Her old friend spotted her. "He's very charming," she told her in false-whisper making Loki's smile larger.

"He's been nicknamed Silver-Tongue." Hermione said, almost in warning.

"You'd know better than me."

Hermione blushed and Loki didn't bother to hide his amused chuckle. "Ummm... I bought chicken. Are you hungry, Ginny?"

"Oh no, Harry's cooking and he'd kill me if I missed tonight." She hugged her, whispering in her ear, "I only stopped by to meet him, to know if he was good enough. And he is." She waved at Loki, "it was nice to meet you. I have to run." She left through the fireplace.

Loki took the bags from her. "Let me cook tonight."

She followed him into the kitchen. "You know how to cook?"

"It's mandatory for warriors," he explained.

Hermione fell into the nearest chair. "That's a rather good idea," she muttered, distracted. She then sighed, "I'm sorry about Ginny..."

"I read all the books in your mini-library, the television is entertaining but I was thoroughly bored. She was a reprieve." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Now, now, don't be jealous. I have no interest in the small red-head."

She watched Loki chopping the vegetables. She leaned sideways and saw that he wasn't using her knives, but a shining blue one of ice. She rolled her eyes, but smiled to herself. "I wasn't jealous."

A long moment of silence blanketed them until Loki suddenly turned to her. He appraised her with something akin to sadness, a crinkle between his brows. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It was true, she trusted him inexplicably, but that answer didn't pacify him. He still looked troubled and she went to his side, placing her hand over his, lowering the knife to the counter. "What's wrong?"

His voice was low and husky. "I need your trust, because I am asking everything of you. I am asking that you leave your realm, I am asking for your heart, your hand, and your life. You belong to me with no conditions.

"In return, I am yours. I will protect and love you beyond my last breath."

Hermione made him face her and Loki held the back of her neck. His green gaze drowned her, pulling her deeper in its abyss. She would never stop falling.

His forehead met hers. "I love you most desperately," he whispered, his minty breath a fan over her lips.

She clutched his wrists and he captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. She wound her fingers in his hair as he lifted her, placing her on the kitchen table. He undid the buttons of her blouse, sliding it over her shoulders.

She worked on the zipper of his trousers, but he pushed her hands away, moving to his knees. He tugged her jeans down her hips and legs, pushing them onto the floor. He forced her open, pushing two fingers inside of her and curling them toward him. She moaned loudly and he tasted the inside of her knee, up the inside of her thigh, and he met the spot that she so badly wanted him to meet.

Hermione leaned back as he worked his tongue inside of her, nipping occasionally at her folds. When her noises became loud, he pulled away and entered her.

It was sweet and sensual. He touched her everywhere, his fingertips grazing her skin; he kissed her breasts. She let out a sigh, wrapping her legs around him.

He met her hazed eyes and his hips jerked roughly against her. She whimpered, still bruised from their previous acts, but she relished the safety and freedom that she was given; the bitter-sweetness of it all. The table mercifully held up for nearly an hour, sturdy beneath them, and she reached and held the edge as she was brought over her own precipice. He came soon after, holding himself within her until he finished.

He wiped her hair away from her face and kissed her. She tasted herself on him, a hint of pumpkin.