Authors note: Hiya! Sorry it's been a while before I wrote this next chapter~ Also, if any of you readers have ideas for this story, I would love to consider them! Enjoy~

It had been four days since he had escaped from that Asgardian prison; Loki was filled with indignant pride when he mused on how he had escaped Odin's wrath in his time of weakness.

'Such power held by such a weak old man…' he thought scornfully.

Loki, although very powerful in the ways of enchantments, had not, however, completely mastered the magic of portals and did not know where he was, even after wandering around aimlessly for the past four days. He did not encounter much, only a few strange looking creatures that seemed peaceful enough, and strange trees with even stranger fruits ripening on their pale and thin branches. Loki was almost tempted to consume one of the plump sickly-colored harvests, yet paranoia held his hand back; the Chitauri leader was intending to exact revenge on Loki and Midguard, after his previous short-comings a fort-night ago, so that fruit might very well be poison; also all of Asgard was after him, and the thought of stopping even for nourishment rattled his nerves. He would not be captured again.

Loki halted suddenly, his hearing keen. There it was again; a crunching footstep behind. Loki whipped around to see…nothing. He barely breathed, trying to listen to every little sound around him; his heart pounded loudly in his ears.

Another crack.

Loki whispered a single word and he became many; his likenesses crowded around, each looking in another direction, and all drawing a golden dagger from their right sleeves.

"How did you do that?" a small voice inquired. All of the copies of Loki turned swiftly to where the voice had come, all pointing their daggers at the source. The little voice belonged to a young boy with pure white skin, golden brown hair, and slitted orange eyes; he stepped out from behind one of the trees.

"Do you know lots of magic?" the boy's voice was flawless and full of youth; curiosity only brightened its tone.

"Who might you be?" Loki asked charily, avoiding the questions; his likenesses vanished and he returned the dagger to his sleeve. It was only a child.

"Rhil." The boy said in a matter-of-fact tone. Loki noticed that Rhil's ears were pointed, jutting back at either side of his head. Rhil began to walk towards Loki, eyes always staring; never blinking. Loki found Rhil's gaze unsettling and he looked down for a moment; only a moment.

Suddenly Loki found that he could not move. He felt a small and warm hand on his shoulder and the cold metal of a blade at his neck. He turned his head slowly, and carefully, and saw that the boy that had been standing in front of him was now grappled onto his back, holding a weapon to his throat. He looked at the blade; it was his own.

"You're very cold," the boy whispered into Loki's ear calmly. Loki could feel that boy's gaze burning into him.

"Do you know lots of magic?" he repeated, like a chant. Loki strained to stay calm.

'By Valhalla, where am I?!' Loki thought frantically.

"What will you do with your magic?" Rhil asked, his voice becoming distorted and raspy, making Loki's skin crawl.

"Yes, I know lots of magic," Loki began, warily, his mind racing.

"I am of Asgard."

Silence.

"Follow me." The boy said abruptly, his voice returning to its original state; he was now in front of Loki once again and still held the golden dagger. Loki felt a shiver run down his spine yet he followed the small child; what choice had he?

Rhil had taken Loki to a lush green meadow where neither stone nor tree could be found. Rhil led him into the meadow and then stopped abruptly. The tall grass began to sway and curve, shaping forms and forming shapes; the forms became people and the shapes became their features. All had the same golden brown hair as Rhil; all had slitted orange eyes, pure skin, and the same unblinking gaze; all had the same pointed ears jutting back. They wore only thin white robes to cover their perfectly slender bodies. They all stared at Loki.

Then sudden realization came to Loki. He was on Alfheim; home of the seer light elves.

"What business have you here, Asgardian?" a woman asked in a soothingly calm voice.

"Pray, I desire sanctuary from my pursuers." Loki replied coolly, running a slender hand slowly through his slick black hair. It suddenly became very quiet.

"We will not grant you sanctuary, by the gods of the nine realms we cannot," the whole of the elves voiced as one, all of them staring at him.

"Loki, god of mischief, you have been cast out of Asgard and sentenced by the Allfather to be cast into your prison of learning."

"How dare you condemn me in the name of Odin!" Loki cried in an outrage, partially from fear and partially from knowing that there was a good chance that they spoke the words of Odin himself.

'Heimdall must be watching…' Loki concluded haughtily, returning their stares with an icy glare that was just as piercing. Loki could hear the chant of the portals rising up from each elf's lips, swift and low in a whisper.

What was that word he heard? No, it couldn't be…Odin wouldn't dare. There it was again. Yes, it was unmistakably that place. All at once Loki realized that any magic of his would be useless at that point and that he truly was going to a prison. Rhil was the only one not reciting the incantation and was instead smiling at Loki as if to say: "good luck."

"I will end you." Loki promised with gritted teeth as the portal for Midgard opened beneath him and he dropped down into it.