Loki lay in silent, still contemplation. Somewhere above him a foreign queen plotted for a second throne. Supporting her plot might serve him for a time, but he was not about to give up what should rightfully go to him. Not to her.

The dungeon was often drafty, even chilly at night, but it suddenly felt much colder, breaking him free of his thoughts.

Loki rose to a seated position and listened down the hall. He heard nothing but the soft crackle of the torches burning. Then there was a gust of strong wind, and the chill in the air spiked yet again. Not that it bothered Loki at all.

Surely not...

When the wind died down there was a new sound. Soft, nearly imperceptible, came the pad of what must have been feet. Not the boots of an Asgardian. Dainty, light, perhaps slippered in silk.

This should be interesting.

And with a subtle wave of his hand he and his belongings vanished within his cell.

The soft sound, now unmistakably footsteps, slowly grew louder. Then the wispy image of a woman appeared. Pale, and in a scandalous state of undress, she seemed a ghost wandering the halls, but the footsteps gave her away as the Vanir princess, Frösdine.

She passed him by, drifting down the row of cells, searching. If any of the other prisoners noticed her, they gave no signs of it. What was she looking for? Him?

She was almost beyond Loki's view from where he stood in his cell, so he carefully moved closer to the window to watch her. He was certain he had made no sound, gave no reason to be noticed, but the princess stopped in her tracks and turned heel. As she wandered her way back towards his cell, he could see her eyes, carefully searching.

She knows I'm here...Interesting indeed.

Slowly, she passed the cells surrounding his own, pausing at each one, placing her hand on the viewing surface. Feeling them out somehow. Eventually she stopped at his cell, her eyes ghosting over him blindly. Here she remained.

"I know you sense me, though I know you cannot see me. " Loki called out, amused by her skill. "How?"

"Magic is in my very nature, it is not you I sense, but your spell," she answered him, placing her other hand on the glass.

She searched the room for a moment longer, then at last met his gaze head on.

"There."

Loki frowned. He would have liked to think he was rather accomplished with his spellcraft, and would have been harder to find than this. This was, however, the most interesting thing that had happened in weeks, and his smile soon returned.

"I know you are there, Prince Loki. Won't you meet me now?"

With a slight grin and a short wave of his hand, Loki's form slowly came bleeding into view, along with the rest of the contents of his cell. The princess's face shifted ever so slightly, a proud little smile perhaps?

"It seems the witches of Vanaheim are still on a level well above my own. How disappointing for myself," he said, not bothering to greet her.

"You needn't take it so personally your Highness, both Vanir and Elven kind are born seers. I have an unfair advantage, being both."

She gave a polite curtsey. Without her regal vestments and her imposing mother, she seemed almost another person. Her hair and her face, though they still glittered with the magic ice, were much plainer now. No less alluring, but less godly perhaps. At least he could feel slightly less embarrassed about his own dishevelled appearance now.

She was small, but seemed all the more so without her flowing robes and crown. Rather, she was tall, long legged, but made herself seem small. She kept her posture tucked, timid. Her eyes, so severe without the barrier of her veil. Her delicate demeanor triggered something inside Loki, hot and volatile. Rage. He knew not why.

"Tell me, have you already finished your nuptials?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You and my brother. No doubt you're already hopelessly in love. Am I correct?"

"You are mistaken. We are not so entangled. Nor does he have any desire to marry me."

"For now perhaps...but I'm sure you have ways to change that. Some plan to change his mind."

"You misunderstand. I'm not here with any such plan. I've no nefarious purpose." She bowed herself even lower.

Usually such placative gestures appeased him. Pleased him even. But to see her all but cower before him, it did nothing but turn his stomach.

Loki sighed. "A pity. I'd have preferred you to be nefarious as opposed to boring. Freyja's clueless pawn after all."

The princess's face hardened. "My deepest apologies, it was not my intention to bore you your Highness. I shall let you return to your pressing business."

She bowed, as stately as she had before, and turned to leave.

Doesn't seem she's easily rattled. Not as timid as she seems perhaps...

Loki would have been content enough to let her disappear down the hall, but if he was being honest with himself, he was dreadfully bored.

"The apologies are mine to make, Princess," he called after her. "I am being a poor host, and you are a guest here after all. Will you allow me to try again?"

The princess stopped and turned to look at him over her shoulder. She appeared both amused and skeptical.

"Tell me, just how did you get past the guards? I doubt you froze them in place...as effective as that might have been."

He might have been wrong, but Loki thought he might have seen a brief smile flicker over the princess's face as she turned and walked back to his cell.

"I might not be able to use magic like my mother, but you aren't the only one capable of crafting a simple charm, Your Highness."

Loki chuckled. "So formal. No one calls me by my rightful title anymore, not even the servants."

"You are still a prince yes? So I should call you as such."

"Depending on who you ask..."

She took a moment to pull her hair around to lay over one shoulder. As she did so, her bed robe shifted and she set about straightening it.

"My sister Asta said there had been rumors of your incarceration...As well as your death. If I may ask, how is it you came to be here? And quite clearly not dead?" she asked after she had settled herself.

Loki felt his muscles tense with fury, but he swallowed down his bitterness as best he could and tried to appear calm. "I made a mistake," he told her.

The princess laughed. Nervous and surprised, but not without humor.

"Yes, I can see that much. I was hoping you might have a bit more light to shed the situation than that."

Loki hesitated. He had no reason to tell this stranger anything. He gazed down at her. She seemed so perfectly detached, as if she practiced it. No judgement in her eyes, only the gentle glow of beauty that accompanies purity. So what harm was there in humoring her?

"It's a long story," he warned her. "Not one I will share entirely."

The girl glanced down the hall to the left, then to the right. "It would seem you have the time," she ribbed him. "Tell me what you will."

Loki paced to the left of his cell. If nothing else then for the drama of it.

"It's all my brother's fault. More or less. He nearly threw us into war with Jotunheim. Granted, I started the tension between them, but I had a carefully laid plan in store. A plan Thor ruined when he stormed into Jotunheim and attacked King Laufey. Odin was so furious he cast Thor out of Asgard. Banished him to Midgard. The stress of it was so great it caused him to fall into the Odinsleep, leaving me in charge of the whole mess."

"A mess of your own making."

Loki glared at her.

"So, you were practically King, how is it you ended yourself down here?"

Loki folded his arms over his chest. "Yes, I suppose it does seem rather remarkable one can go from king to war criminal quite so quickly."

"So how did you?"

"I was betrayed," he spat. "Treason. Thor's jolly little troupe of playmates. They disobeyed my direct orders, unjustly usurped me, undermined me. I had to put my foot down. I did the only thing I thought would restore order. Desperate times and all..."

He looked up to see if the girl's face had changed at all. Listening to his story, judging him. It hadn't. It hadn't changed one bit. Icy, cool, she simply listened.

"I sent the Destroyer for Thor and the traitors, and tried to use the Bifrost to destroy Jotunheim. End the war before it began. But Odin woke from his slumber, and he could not see my reason."

He felt cold himself as he spoke those words. The fire had long died out of his rage. It was now a hard immovable object buried inside him. It was almost what one might call acceptance.

"And?" she prompted.

Loki shrugged. "And in the end, I fell from the Bifrost."

"But, they recovered you?"

"Not hardly."

Loki closed his eyes and felt the cold darkness of the abyss rush up to meet him.

"I tire of this."

"But you haven't explained why you're here."

"I-"

He felt venom and bile rising up inside him. He had the urge to scream at her, to frighten her. How dare she ask so many questions. What did it matter how it happened? It happened. It was done.

I had no choice.

"I owed a debt," he whispered. "At least, I did in someone else's eyes. To repay it, they wanted me to take Midgard. I never discovered the full extent of their reasoning, but being in no position to bargain, I agreed. I had a plan of my own. I thought, if I succeeded I could-"

Loki stopped. He sickened himself, telling this girl everything so freely. Nearly everything leastways.

"It doesn't matter. It all got out of hand, and I didn't succeed. I have Thor and his mortal friends to thank for that as well."

"I imagine they did not take kindly to your designs on Midgard?" the princess pushed.

"That they did not."

"But they let you return here, rather than execute you?"

"They did."

"And here you are," she flatly surmised.

"And here I am."

"I suppose you should be glad they granted you that mercy. They could have just as well not been so gracious."

"It doesn't exactly feel like a kindness, standing on this side of the glass," Loki grumbled.

The princess lowered her gaze. "No, I suspect it may not."

Is she sorry for me? How dare she...She's the one in need of pity. Pathetic. She's much too easily softened.

"What could have possibly driven you down here I wonder?" Loki asked, deciding it was his turn for asking questions. "I take it you could not sleep? Nothing but such desperation could bring you down here willingly."

She shook her head. "Actually the problem was that I was sleeping."

Loki frowned slightly. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

"I was dreaming."

"And that's a problem?"

"It might be. It certainly isn't usual. I slept for over a millennium without dreaming. Mother's medicine has always prevented it. Until now."

"Medicine?" Loki repeated. "Your mother makes you take a potion that steals away your dreams?"

Loki looked her over. Fresh bruises on her wrist. At the very least, he was free to dream.

"My mother is not quite so cruel as to simply take them. She had a better reason than spite," said the princess.

"And that would be?"

Something interesting I hope.

The princess toyed with the cuff of her robe, looking past Loki as she spoke. "My dreaming was a problem once, a long time ago."

Loki lowered his head ever so slightly, to be more on speaking level with the girl. "Vanir often see visions in their dreams. Is that what you mean?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

She shook her head. "While that might be true for other Vanir, I scarcely have such dreams," she told him. "For me, dreaming is an escape for my magic. The cold seeps out of me and spreads. Sometimes, if the dream is bad, I create terrible storms. The sudden ice stunts crops, wrecks ships... so, better not to have them all together."

Loki grinned. "So you came here because you had a bad dream? Strange choice. I suppose, knowing you're under the same roof as a frost giant would be cause for nightmares."

The princess frowned, confusion covering her face. "Why would that be?

Loki's grin slipped.

"Surely you are making an attempt at humor at my expense, Princess?"

"I meant no such disrespect. I...I simply don't understand what it is you mean."

"Odin as well as told you as much earlier. I am of Jotun blood. A frost giant," Loki huffed.

She seemed thoughtful then, placing a knuckle to her blue lips.

She had such thin delicate fingers. Hands. There was no strength in them. No treat. Even the long nails were shiny, pretty, not dangerous.

"My mother seemed...disturbed by that. I'm sorry but, I don't understand why."

Loki had to struggle to keep his mouth from falling agape. "Don't you know the histories?" he asked her.

"Not extensively. You were at war with them once. I don't really know more than that."

"The frost giants are the most hated enemies in Asgard's history. Hated more than anything. The monsters in all our stories. Who wouldn't hate them after so many years of war?"

"We were at war just as long. We don't hate each other."

Loki laughed. "Do we not? Odin and Freyja had me convinced otherwise."

"Well, not the way you do these giants. I don't hate you anyways," she whispered.

"Only because you don't know any better," he told her, slowly pacing to the other side of his cell. "Don't worry, stay in Asgard, you'll learn."

The princess followed him.

"Are frost giants really so terrible?"

She really knows nothing. Empty headed little nit.

"Frost giants are hulking, brutal, and once, when they were powerful, they thought only of frozen conquest. Not all that different from Asgardians at all. That's the real reason they could never get along. There was only room for one self-important bully in the nine realms. Odin won, and the frost giants faded into destitution."

She paused in thought, crystalline eyes blinking up at him scrutinously. "They couldn't even get into Asgard without your help," she finally said. "If they were no longer a threat, why try to destroy them?"

Loki shrugged. "It was always only a matter of time. If not by me, Laufey would have found another to aid him in his plot. Then the threat would have been real, and us none the wiser, until it was too late."

The princess's cool face softened. "You did it for your people...not the throne."

"I didn't do it for them," Loki spat. "I did it for me. To be the 'great hero' of Asgard. None of the burdens of the crown. All of the respect and power. That's all I wanted. To be treated as the superior I am."

She was looking at him directly now. Her gaze was far off and almost dreamy, as if she were looking beyond him, and yet she wasn't.

"What?" Loki snapped at her.

"Nothing," she assured him.

Her gaze moved down his body. Picking apart his appearance no doubt.

"Your hand," she mumbled, her voice much softer now, "is it alright?"

Loki looked down. Had he cut himself and not noticed? He saw no injury.

"I was worried I might have injured you earlier."

Oh, that.

Loki rubbed his wrist, remembering the jolt of icy magic. How it had awakened the most hidden part of himself. "I assure you, I'm quite impervious to the effects of the cold. No matter how intense."

"Your skin turned blue..."

"Yes...I'm honestly surprised you were able to break right through my illusion like that. I thought only the cradle of winter could force me out of it."

"Illusion?"

Loki snorted. "Some seer you are, you can't even tell this isn't my true form. All frost giants are blue. Blue skin, blue blood...red eyes though. Like the fires of Hel. Isn't that charming?"

"So, my magic...I didn't hurt you?"

"Well, it was certainly brisk," he teased.

He lifted his sleeve to reveal his unmarred flesh. "But as you can see, I'm the picture of health."

Her eyes welled and glittered with what might have been tears, but also might have been magic.

"I'm so relieved," she breathed out.

Loki laughed to himself silently.

She's not acting. She was actually concerned. The poor dear thing. You just might be useful yet.

And even if she was not, the conversation was a nice change to the constant silence.

"Frösdine. That's an interesting name," he commented. He wandered to a dish of grapes, inspected one, then plucked it free. "One, I think, not commonly given in Vanaheim. If anywhere at all..."

Loki tossed the grape in his mouth and chewed it down, never taking his eyes off of the girl. Studying her face for hints of secrets.

"You would be correct, Prince Loki. Regardless, it is my name. If it suits you, you may call me Frost. My mother took to it, as have my sisters."

"It certainly suits you."

"Does it?" she asked, her tone flat, her expression one of boredom.

Loki paused. Was this a witless remark? Or was it in fact very witty? He hadn't expected her capable of humor.

"Oh yes," Loki replied with a smirk, "dry and cold. It suits you very well."

"Is that what you do down here? Day in, day out? Think up witty remarks?"

Loki laughed. "A fair amount of the time, yes. Though to be perfectly honest, it doesn't take much effort on my part."

Frost gazed about his cell at his minimal furnishings.

"What is it you actually do all day?" she asked.

Loki too turned about to appraise his quaint, contained life. His bed, fine enough, though not as large as he had been accustomed. A less than ideally comfortable chair, broken, by him, and shoddily repaired, also by him. A table of similar status, less successfully repaired and thus wholly untrustworthy to hold much of anything. A meager stack of books, exchanged recently enough, though some he had already read twice. And nothing else of import.

Loki breathed out a bitter, joyless laugh. "I wasn't joking, dear princess. I have little else to keep my mind from its own musings, save for when they see fit to bring me something worth reading."

To Loki's surprise the princess mirrored his laugh. "Yes," she sighed, placing her hand on the barrier and sending chaotic veins of ice shooting and spinning out into random directions. "Books were my only companions as well."

The golden energy hissed and strained under the pressure of Frost's magic.

Loki's heart beat increased rapidly. Could she break it if she chose? Was her dark touch truly so powerful?

I can use that. Oh yes, I can certainly use that.

"Were you a prisoner too, princess?" Loki asked her, touching the ice creeping up the wall in front of him.

"One of my own making perhaps. Then again, perhaps I only choose to believe that though. Vanaheim is delicate, and the cold is uncaring. So I stay locked away, reading, reading, reading. However, unlike you, I can leave if I choose. Or so they have let believe so far."

A howling wind blew through the corridor. Not sudden and quick as the other, but long and steadily growing, a crescendo of rage that gently died away. It tossed her hair about, but Loki couldn't feel its kiss. Her eyes gleamed, the shade grew brighter but her face grew darker. How deadly she looked then, meek and mild nowhere to be found. How beautiful she seemed, gowned in power.

Loki smirked at her. "I could leave if I chose."

"Then why stay?"

He shrugged. "Thor would only hunt me down again. Best I wait until he takes his leave. And, truth be told, I don't wish to delay him. I am not so certain I don't admire his goal. I don't know how I feel about the idea of these Infinity Stones lurking about out there."

"They would be much safer in your keeping, I'm sure."

Loki's jaw went slack in shock. "Why you cheeky little-"

"I apologize, I could not resist," she giggled out.

And for all the danger each of them might have posed, that laugh disarmed them. The ice melted away.

"What is it you care to read, Prince Loki?"

Charm the girl. Make her like you. You may need her after all.

Charm was easier than intimidation when behind bars.

"Literature, poetry mostly. What is there in this world to so appreciate but beauty? And so what form could so well encapsulate beauty but poetry?"

"What about science?" she countered.

"Science?" Loki repeated. Didn't women like poetry anymore?

"The study of science is the examination of all the world's facets. The how and why of everything. All her secrets laying in wait to be discovered, like so many blooms waiting to open, to be seen for the first time. All the ugly, all the beauty," she gushed. "So, my answer would be science."

She smiled softly "But, I make a point to be well rounded with my studies, so I am also fond of history and literature, and poetry as well."

So, she is well educated after all. That might make tricking her difficult...but it will make her more enjoyable company, I hope.

"Is there one you prefer then, princess?" he asked her.

"A poet? Well I enjoy-"

Loki snickered. "A science."

"Oh." The girl's eyes went wide and the white of her cheeks became less stark in what Loki had to assume was a blush. "Oh yes! I'm very fond of botany, studying plants, learning to grow them, and how they can be used. They seem such gentle sedentary things, with their beauty and their secrets...but they impact everything around them in ways we fail to fully understand."

She was smiling now, eyes glittering, practically bouncing in her slippers. Loki admired the soft glow about her. People were always more interesting when you kindled their passion.

"The smallest change in their world can spell disaster for us, their lives and our own being so intricately interwoven. To study them is to study ourselves, and much like people, they are seldom as they seem. You likely know holly berries are quite poisonous. Yet we decorate our halls with them for the festivities of Yule, never thinking their cheerful color is meant to be threatening. And atropa belladonna, deadly nightshade, well known to be poisonous, but prepared properly it can be a life saving medicine. If no one studied the plants we would never have known..."

She trailed off, as if she had suddenly remembered her shy timid nature. She cast a nervous glance away, then back to Loki. Perhaps she thought he was disinterested. Not listening. The glitter of excitement in Frost's eyes flickered, threatening to be extinguished all together.

Loki gave her a soft smile and subtly bowed his head to her. "Please, continue."

Frost combed her fingers through her hair, her eyes downcast. "I only meant...in plants and flowers, there is as much poetry to be found as in between the pages of your books. Both grant life in their own ways."

Loki leaned his shoulder against the barrier and looked the girl over. He cared little for plants, but to hear her speak of them in this way was almost endearing. Her profoundness, sentimental as it may be, stroked within him, a deeper curiosity for her. Timid waif, or uncontained force of destruction? Clever minx or oblivious pawn? Where lay her truest nature? Loki felt his hunger to discover more sharpen.

"I don't know much about flowers and berries I'm afraid, but I quite like how you speak of them," he said softly, fingers toying with the frayed hem of his shirt. "Perhaps I shall make an effort to educate myself on them so I might properly engage you in conversation."

Color crept into her face. "No one else bothers. My brothers and sisters have always been more interested in war games and dancing and dresses than plants or animals, or even poetry. Or anything I have to say, really..."

"That's my brother for you just as well, all he ever wanted to do when we were boys was fight. Now that we're grown he's got his wish and he still isn't happy," Loki huffed.

Frost laughed, though whether she found this genuinely funny or was merely being polite, Loki couldn't tell.

He had to find a better way to dissect her. But how?

Her attention had waned, she was again gazing into the room behind him, but at what? He followed her eyes to the game set on the...questionable table. She was brimming with appraisal and intrigue. The desire to see, to touch.

"Do you play?" he asked her, gesturing to the game set.

She nodded hesitantly.

"I haven't had anyone to play in some time. I know it is late, but could I ask you to indulge me a little while longer?"

"Play you? I'm not sure it would be sufficiently entertaining for you, Your Highness. Everyone tells me you are dreadfully clever. I may not be any challenge for you."

"Then you should be all the more thankful I wish to play you," he announced. Loki strode across the cell, collected his chair, and placed it in front of the barrier. "It will be an excellent learning opportunity for you."

Still she hesitated.

"You can't get better if you don't practice," Loki urged.

"If you should like," she agreed.

Loki lifted the footstool and placed it in front of his chair, then, as carefully as he could, carried the game set over and laid it on top. Black for him, white for her. While setting the toppled pieces right, Loki looked down the hallway and frowned.

"I hate for you to stand."

Frost shook her head and knelt down. "Not to worry."

She placed her palm to the floor and slowly raised it. As she did so, a pillar of ice rose out from the ground. It steadily grew as she lifted herself from the floor and in a minute's time she had a perfectly comfortable seat. Comfortable enough for her at least.

"Shall we?" she asked, scooping her dressing gown under her legs as she sat down.

The first game they played quietly. This suited Loki and his goals just fine. She scarcely took her eyes off of the board, and Loki kept his own locked on her. She was slow to make her moves, clearly thinking out the repercussions of each one, weighing the pros and cons. Her face never betrayed any emotion.

Cool headed. Even tempered.

Cautious or slow?

All so measured. She's worked hard on crafting this mask.

Good at pretending.

Good liar?

When she finished deciding, she announced her moves clearly and confidently. She watched Loki move her pieces, and his own, keenly. She didn't make eye contact with him. Either she felt confident enough to do without, or her confidence was entirely a ruse, and she feared meeting his gaze would give her away.

Perceptive.

Alert.

Untrusting. Wise on her part.

Self assured?

The game was over quicker than Loki would have liked, he'd beaten her easily, though she had played well. He frowned at the board before collecting the misplaced pieces.

"I told you so," she fretted, twisting the tie of her robe around her finger. Her brow was furrowed, likely with embarrassment. No one likes to lose after all. Her lips seemed pouty to him. Not at all the stoic face she'd kept up during the game. Not the face of a regal princess, closer to that of a petulant child. And while worn by a child the expression should have been irritating, on her it appeared almost cute.

One game was hardly enough to learn what he desired.

"You're just nervous," he assured her. "You'll do better this time, you'll see."

She gave Loki a wry half smile. "Promise not to go easy on me?"

"Promise."

The first promise he'd made with the intention of keeping it in a long time. But he had to find a way to lower her guard.

"Sprite to D4," Frost commanded.

Loki's hand paused over the board. "Sprite?"

"I'm sorry, soldier. We call them sprites in Vanaheim. Our pieces are little faeries, not warriors."

"Ah. Sprite to D4," Loki repeated sliding the small white toten towards himself. "Are there other differences?"

Frost nodded. "Mm. The piece you called a scout, we call it a priestess."

Loki held his move, though he already knew what it would be. "Who taught you to play, princess?"

"My father. Though I soon outgrew him," she said with a hint of laughter in her voice. "All those years, you think he could have improved a little…"

"So you had a poor teacher,"Loki mused, knocking her pawn over. "That makes sense, what with all these holes in your strategy..."

Frost shot him a dirty look. "My father wasn't greatly skilled at the game. But my sister Ragna was. I think perhaps mother taught her. She beat me over and over for ages. The first time I ever won she hit me in the nose with her Valkyrie piece. Mother didn't let me play with her anymore after that…Sprite to G5."

Loki made her move, then his own. "You can't remember all of this from your childhood. Who did you play after that?"

"Only my mother. And only when she could be bothered to see me. Which, wasn't often, but when she did see me she made me play for hours. Most of the time I rather enjoyed it. It was a special treat to spend time with her. But when I failed to improve my games...It was not always so. Who taught you then?"

Loki's hand closed around his pawn, squeezing tight. "My own mother."

"Oh," the princess gasped. "Forgive me, I didn't think…"

"It's alright," he assured her. He set his token down. Not the best move. Not even a good move, but he'd moved, and one mistake wouldn't cost him the game. "My mother taught me...well, most anything of use honestly. The most important thing she ever taught me was to always play to my strengths. Thor was big, was always going to be stronger than me, so I had to be smarter than him. That requires forethought, patience, insight...so, this was, of course, an invaluable tool."

"And were you a good student?"

"Not always. But she was a very good teacher."

"I see."

She took a long time to make her next move, fully exploiting the hole Loki had made in his own defense.

Prone to sentimentality.

Looks before she leaps, even when presented with a clear opportunity.

"Your mother. I heard she died in the dark elf attack. I never met her, Queen Frigga, but my mother always spoke very fondly of her. She loved her dearly and respected her a great deal. That means a lot from her. I am...sorry to learn of her death. She must have been a remarkable woman."

The back of Loki's neck seared with heat and a painful shiver rolled down his back. For a moment all that raw emotion threatened to bubble out of him, then, as quickly as it appeared, it drained away.

"She was," he said. His mouth felt dry.

They played in silence for a time. Piece after piece fell, both sides taking losses. Loki's previous mistake was proving to be more costly than he had originally thought, and now the game was much closer than the first. Loki forgot all about studying his opponent. He should have been angry, but he was enjoying the challenge. Day in day out, no one to talk to, he could feel himself losing his edge. Playing with her felt like a breath of fresh air.

Slowly the tension melted away and they were amiably chatting again. They spoke more of books and poetry, and a little of siblings. It was apparent to Loki that while they both had had lonely and isolated childhoods, they were vastly different. Sensing it was a sore subject, and wanting to avoid spoiling the game, he steered the conversation away from the topic.

Eventually there stood no pieces left on the field save for the two Allfathers.

"Well then," Loki murmured, "We have a draw."

"It would appear so."

Loki grinned. "Well done. I told you that you would improve."

"I didn't improve," she informed him, "you got worse."

"Is that so?" Loki snapped. He did his best to appear offended, but inside he was giddy.

"Then the only sensible thing to do is to play a deciding match."

Frost looked down the hall towards the clueless guards. "It is late Your Highness, and while my spell is quite good, it will not last forever. I think I should turn in now."

"Just one more," Loki wheedled. "We can make this one more interesting. A little wager. What say you?"

Come now, everyone likes a game of chance don't they? Take the bait princess.

"A wager? I'm afraid I have nothing of value to give you Prince Loki."

Loki's grin widened.

You have plenty of value to me ice princess. Plenty.

"You have something of immeasurable import to me. The most valuable thing someone can grant you."

Frost frowned. "What might that be?"

"That which cannot be bought, but only given freely. The truth."

"The truth? Excuse me Your Highness, but, the truth of what exactly?"

"I haven't decided. I shall think of a question while we play. If I win, you'll answer me honestly."

She raised an eyebrow at this. "And if I win?"

"You may ask me anything you like, and I shall do the same."

"Forgive me Your Highness, but what is to stop me from lying to you?"

"Oh, you won't lie to me," Loki assured her with a smile. "First of all, you won't lie to me, because I'll know. A well versed liar can always spot a lie. And secondly, you won't lie to me because you have no reason to. Nothing to be gained. You won't lie to me."

Her brow knitted up slightly. "If you're such a well versed liar, what's to stop you from lying to me should I win?"

Loki gestured dismissively at the room around him. "Much the same reasons really. I have nothing to gain by lying to you. I am, quite literally, in a position to gain nothing at all."

Frost brought her hands, which had been neatly folded in her lap for the duration of their conversation so far, to a lock of her hair. She hastily braided it, then unbraided it, then braided it again, clearly thinking things over.

"Very well," she conceded, "I'll play."

Loki reset the board and awaited Frost's first move. The room was silent once more, only Frost spoke to direct Loki's hand. The only other sound to be heard was the click of marble against marble as the make believe soldiers marched into battle. The game moved slower this time, each side more thoughtful about sacrificing a piece. Still, the collection of prisoners of war grew, one by one.

Loki fully believed he had sussed out Frost's strategy and would beat her, sooner or later, when she suddenly moved her high lady out of cover.

What in the Nine Realms is she doing?

Loki studied the board with great care. It was a trap, it was the only way she would make such a risky move, but if there were pincers laying in wait to capture him, he could not find them.

I'm not playing your game princess. She wants me to attack her queen. Two can play at this game…

Loki took up his tower piece and moved it away from the field of contention. As senseless a move as hers.

"High lady to E7," she ordered with a smile.

Loki glared and moved the token.

What is she playing at? She didn't try to check…

Loki couldn't help but smile back. He moved his valkyrie towards the high lady.

"High lady E6."

"Isn't there a rule about skiddling about pointlessly? I could have sworn there was," Loki cautioned her.

"You're not convinced it's pointless though are you?"

Loki slid his tower back to threaten her high lady. "No," he grumbled.

"Priestess to H6."

Loki moved his other tower to meet it.

"You aren't going to sacrifice that piece," he muttered. "Not that easily.

"No? Pawn to G7."

"You…"

"You moved your tower away. Pawn to G7."

Loki bit his lip and slid the piece forward.

"I believe that is check."

"You don't-"

"You moved your second tower to menace my lady. Why you didn't take her I can not possibly fathom, but you spared her, and now you can not catch her. You can not move out of check on your next turn, no matter what move you make now. So, then, I will have checkmate."

Loki ran over his possible moves but he already knew she was right. He was checked. He had given it to her when he allowed her high lady to pass his defences. He'd been so focused on the lady he had forgotten entirely about her pawn he'd intended to capture.

Is she clever or lucky? She doesn't know and neither do I.

Loki laughed to himself and gently knocked his Allfather over. "The game is yours princess."

Loki stood and gave Frost a courteous bow of his head. "Congratulations, you're clearly much better than you or I gave you credit for. I'd shake your hand, but…"

Frost stood and returned his bow, her ice chair fizzling away into snow and wind behind her. "You played remarkably well. Thank you for the exciting match."

She smiled at him, a bright beaming smile. Too warm, too genuine. Loki's own smile faltered, cracking apart and falling from his face like chipping paint.

"You will retire now?" he asked her.

Frost cast a nervous glance at the einherjar still under her spell. "I must."

"I understand."

"But first, regarding my boon."

Loki chuckled and straightened his coat. "Ah, yes, your question. Very well, one absolute unbesmirched truth. What is it you wish to know?"

"I would like to ask a favor of you. I'm afraid I don't yet know what it is I wish to ask you. Might I have some time to think on the matter?"

"Calculated in this as well...I see. Very well, take all the time you need."

Smart girl.

"Thank you, I appreciate it. And thank you again for the game."

"You are quite welcome," Loki assured her. And he meant it. He had even managed to recover a bit of his smile.

The princess stood quiet for a moment rather than scampering off to bed. Once again her fingers were bothering the fabric of her robe. "Your Highness," she began, her voice as soft as baby's breath. "If you might permit me...I should like to play again sometime."

Loki started back dumbly.

She wanted to return? She would still like to see him again after he had been so rude? After everything she had learned about him? Loki was, surprised, to say the least, but also somewhat relieved. He found he too would like to meet again. She was intelligent. She was dangerous. She was, Loki decided, enticing, regardless to what end.

Loki cleared his throat before he answered. "I may reside here, princess, but the dungeons are in no way my domain. You are free to return or not, entirely of your own accord."

"Still, I should not like to go where I am unwanted," Frost replied.

Loki swiped his thumb over his chin before raising his eyes to meet her gaze fully. "You are unwelcome here, princess, but not by me. My time is yours, should you ever desire it."

"I am glad to hear it." She smiled again. This time the warmth wasn't quite as harsh to him. "I bid you a good night then, Loki."

And with that, she gave him a deep curtsey and whisked herself down the hall, out of view, leaving a trail of snowflakes in her wake. Loki watched after her, seeing the glamor keeping the guards away disappear as they snapped back to attention. He watched after her for a long time.

He felt a warmth come over him, a rush of exhilaration, the likes of which he had not felt since he sat on the throne and lied to Thor. He could feel his blood rushing, feel strength returning to his body, his mind. A mischievous grin broke out across his face. His mind was made up.

It's about time I had some fun again. So let's play, Princess.