As he lay there, on the carpet, Loki wondered what, exactly he'd gotten himself into. This… Plant-girl seemed kind enough, after all, she had agreed to have him as a slave, rather than stick around Odin. Thoughtfully, he pulled at the collar, as he rose to his feet. The house was quiet, sunny, and altogether far too cheerful for his liking. He wasn't even sure where, on Midgard, he was.

The large bay windows overlooked a pleasant mountain view, and he seemed to be on the second floor of the house, as there was a screen door that opened onto a balcony. Inside, there were the typical furnishings expected in a Midgardian hovel. In fact, the only thing that caught his eye about the entire room was the quite beautiful painting hanging above the hearth.

Distractedly, he moved a little closer to get a better look, and quietly stood before the painting, hands clasped behind his back as he pondered it. The image depicted was a waterfall, surprisingly dark and mysterious for its cheerful surroundings. He could almost see the water moving, the foam licking at the boulders down in the quiet pool below. It was mesmerizing, somewhat ethereal, and Loki couldn't help but be drawn. Typically, art didn't interest him in the least, but he had to admit that this work had obvious talent behind it.

Shrugging carelessly, as if someone could see him and witness that he was (gasp) showing any interest in anything Midgardian, he moved towards the doorway the Plant-girl had gone through.

If he had thought the room he'd arrived in was sunny, this room made it look like a cave of bats. The entire west wall, and much of the ceiling was made of glass, creating a sort of greenhouse effect, and the bright sunlight shone down on the Plant-girl, bent studiously over… something or other, brow furrowed in concentration as her pencil moved along the papers. More paintings and drawings were hung up all over the walls, set up on easels, and, most likely, there were more inside the folders on the bookshelves that lined the wall. With her golden hair, and her inquisitive blue eyes, Loki was suddenly struck by how closely she resembled his broth- Thor. With how closely she resembled Thor.

She didn't seem to notice him, so he quietly backed back into the room he'd arrived in.

What did the Plant-girl expect of a slave? This was the question he pondered as he strolled languidly around the room. One entire wall seemed to be made of mirrors, and he couldn't help but notice how disheveled he seemed. Assuming it must be from the fall, he tidied himself to the best of his ability, and gnawed his lip in worry.

Would she want him to simply sit around as a sort of décor? Or, perhaps, she would have hard, menial labor for him to do, like he'd seen the slaves in Asgard doing. Did she have farm work to do? He shuddered at the thought of being humiliated further. Or, perhaps, and this was the worst of all, perhaps she would want to make him pay for all he had done to Midgard. Whatever she chose, it was imperative that he not upset her. Distractedly, he ran his fingers along the edge of his collar, remembering the harsh, blinding pain that he'd felt only a few moments ago.

How does one "not upset" a mortal? In his experience, they were frightfully whiny things, never content with their lot, and were extremely sensitive to anyone and everyone "hurting their feelings".

Pathetic.

Loki internally scoffed at the absurdity of this situation. He was a prince, for crying out loud! How could he be slave to… this Plant-girl? Odin had really outdone himself, this time…

"I can't focus."

Loki spun around in surprise. What was it with mortal women and catching him off-guard? "I fail to see what this has to do with me." He returned blandly, willing his startled heart to stop racing.

"I keep thinking you're standing behind me with a knife." The Plant-girl explained quietly. "So I might as well deal with you."

"Deal with me?" Loki echoed in disbelief.

"Yeah." She nodded, for some reason, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. "So, um… I'm Payton. As I'm sure you already knew."

He didn't, but it's not like he was going to admit that. "Loki." He returned, staring at her in boredom. "Do I call you 'my lady'?"

Payton glanced up in surprise, meeting his eyes for the briefest of seconds. "Uh, no. Just Payton. Andy calls me Patty; do not call me that."

Loki guessed he was supposed to know who this "Andy" being was, but to be honest, he didn't care.

"So, this house only has one bedroom, and I'm not giving it to you." The mortal continued. "You'll be on the couch. Don't worry, it's a foldout."

Loki blinked in incomprehension, but opted to say nothing. Why look stupid, when you could pretend to be smart?

The mortal shifted nervously, edging toward the wall of mirrors. "Don't… don't break anything, but, besides that, I guess you can slouch around like a homeless bum."

"What are my duties to be?" Loki enquired, making a show of politeness.

"Duties?" Payton stared up through her blonde bangs at him. "You want chores?"

Loki made a "duh" gesture. "Is that not what slaves are intended for?"

"Oh, yeah." Payton sighed, possibly having forgotten what he was supposed to be. "You're not my slave, no matter what that old guy said. You don't have to do anything, if you don't want to."

Loki furrowed his brow. "So, you're simply providing lodging for me?" He guessed, and at her affirmative nod, gestured to his collar. "What about this? I can't disobey you."

"I'm not using that if I can help it." She stated shortly.

Loki found himself aghast. "You're… you're not?"

She silently shook her head.

This would be surprisingly easy. He could simply clock her on the head, and stroll right out of here. Well, if he could hurt her without activating the collar, which he doubted. He had a weakness, and she wasn't even going to exploit it? Mortals really were idiots.

"One more thing…" She looked up sharply, then cast her vision down to the carpet, again. "I'm sorry if I ever get angry at you, or flip out or something. It happens a lot, and…" she trailed off, her eyes clouding with an unreadable emotion. "Yeah." She nodded shortly. "Don't break anything, sleep on the couch, and I'm sorry if I get mad."

Out of all the things Loki had been expecting the Plant-girl (He'd forgotten her name… Patrick? Piper?) to say, "I'm sorry" was not one of them. She hadn't even done anything, yet!

"You have a temper?" He deduced, unsure of what else to say.

She nodded softly, and walked straight towards the wall of mirrors, and, to his shock, pulled back a segment of the wall to reveal a portion of the house he hadn't even known was there. His surprise must have been evident in his face, as she smiled softly, and beckoned for him to follow her. At first, he hesitated, but, wary that the collar might take it as a command, he strolled along behind her.

They came out in another room, which seemed to be kitchen, with a small table set for four. Adjacent to this room was the entryway, with a door out directly onto the ground, and a large staircase that went both up and down. Loki only got a fleeting glimpse of the entryway, however, before the Plant-girl led him down the staircase into what seemed to be another living space, but this one was more suited towards smaller children. Unconsciously, he curled his lip in disgust at the bright toys and games, therein, as the mortal went over to the nearby couch, removed the cushions, and pulled it out into a bed.

Offering him a shy smile she shrugged. "I guess this can be your room, for now. Bathroom's through there," she pointed towards a door, "and you can holler if you need anything."

He nodded in confusion. Was he a prince, or a slave? He couldn't tell which, at this point. Was she offering him everything a mortal could offer, or was she pushing him out of sight, and, therefore, out of mind? He was too unfamiliar with the Midgardians to tell, and she was already climbing the stairs. (What was her name, again? He couldn't be always calling her "Plant-girl"…)

In defeat, he flopped onto the bed. To his disgust, the mattress was lumpy, and hard, and the frame was too short for him. Lovely… Now he was banished to Midgard, unable to lift a finger for himself, and stuck on the world's most uncomfortable bed.

The Universe had got to be kidding him.

"Hey, Andy!" Payton tugged at her bangs fretfully as she flopped down onto her bed, phone pressed to her ear. "You'll never guess what I just did…"

"Go ahead…" Andrea, or, as she was referred to by close friends and family, Andy, replied.

"I went to Asgard, and adopted a psychopath!" Payton fake-enthused.

"No, really, Patty, what did you do?" Andy laughed heartily.

Payton snorted. "I'm not kidding. I can put him on the line, if you want me to."

There was a moment of silence. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…" Payton sighed. "I think. I mean, yeah, I just gave full permission for a guy I don't even know, who happened to murder eighty people in two days, and also is a freakin' thing of legends full rights to my house…" She paused. "Yeah, I see your point. Maybe I'm not okay."

"What? Never mind, I can tell you're tired." Payton could almost hear Andrea's exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. "You know what I'm going to say…"

"Sleep." She sighed. "I know… But I did sleep. I'm fully awake. Not tired."

"You know… if you're telling me the truth..."

"I am."

"Patty, I'm officially worried about you. You can't stay up all night drawing, even if you have your deadlines." Andy fussed in a motherly way. "I'm coming over, okay? And you're getting a very long nap."

There was a click as the phone hung up, and Payton sighed, and dropped the phone in her lap. Now Andy was coming over. Great. There was nothing she could do to stop her sister, but to be honest, she wouldn't mind having a bit of help.

TheOnlyHuman.