Chapter Five

Trouble

Valkyrie's Point Of View...

No sooner had I been accepted into the group here, the females – I think – took me into one of the buildings and took the Psycho's coat and sceptre from me, placing it carefully on a side table before asking me to strip. I did so (down to my underwear, at least) and was then given some new clothes to wear.

A silk black blouse, covered by dark silver chain-mail under-shirt that came down to mid-thigh and a dark silver breast plate. I was also given skin-tight black leather pants and knee-high soft leather boots. With each piece of clothing, I thanked the females profusely, but they just waved me off, saying they'd help anyone who pitted themselves against The Trickster...or obviously as I knew him, Psycho.

Once I was dressed, they handed me back the coat and sceptre, before being led to what seemed to be the centre of the village, where I was sat down before the fire and the same females who'd dressed me started swiftly braiding my hair into an intricate style while their leader started talking to me:

"The one you call 'Psycho' we know as The Trickster, but he is known as many other names: Silver Tongue, Frost Giant, Loki - "

"Loki, as in the Norse god Loki?" I asked, the words from earlier finally clicking in my head: 'Loki of Asgard, the Trickster, silver-tongue and God of Mischief and Lies'.

The leader nodded, and I swore. Everyone knew who Loki was, even if in the dark cave I hadn't been able to make out his exact features...he'd nearly destroyed New York two years ago in a bid to take over the world...and now he'd kidnapped me and brought me wherever the fuck I was...shit. Shit shit shit.

I was so fucking screwed.

"I take it you are not happy to have been brought here by him. But that does not answer who you are, little warrior."

"Lagertha Hervor Lodbrok. Or Valkyrie."

"Fitting. Do not worry, little Valkyrie. The god will not hurt you here. We are known for our fighting prowess, even the gods of this realm do not bother us."

"But if one were too, it would be him." piped up another one of the villagers, a tall and more than muscled male covered in scars and wearing full silver armour decorated with lots of different jagged deep blue patterns that I assume stood for some rank or maybe even the amount of battles he'd survived.

"The we shall fight him off." the female next to him snapped, but there was a little bit of glee in her eyes: a violent kind of glee that made me think that maybe she wouldn't be too annoyed if Loki did attack; she seemed to really want to get her hands on him...and she was more than welcome to do so, in my opinion; I wanted nothing more to do with the entire situation. I just wanted to go back home.

And with that in mind, I nodded gravely, like I knew what I was doing. Whether I did or didn't, it seemed like a good idea to show some sort of bravery. They seemed like they'd value that kind of thing.

When in doubt, bluff your way through it. Both the best and worst piece of advice I'd ever been given, because although now I was very good at bluffing, it wasn't always the case that even my skills could get me through every situation I'd like them to.

But right now, it wasn't exactly like I had a choice.

So: when a furious looking – an extremely furious looking although quite good looking in a 'I'm-a-psychopath-who-wants-to-kill-everyone' kind of way – and dripping wet figure appeared, glaring hatefully at me from just outside the village boundries...all I could do was stand up and glare right back at him like I somehow knew what I was going to do.

On the inside, though...I was screaming, wanting to run so far so fast that nobody would ever be able to catch me.

And yet I was still standing here: head held high, just waiting.

Oh, shit, I thought darkly, a not without a little fear: I am so in trouble now.