"You'll have to come back again another time. He's down with – food poisoning."
I watched the man lie right through his teeth. He dropped his eyes to the file of reports before him and dipped the ends of his handlebar moustache into his mug of coffee. I was no longer required in the room. I never was to begin with. I pushed back my chair, stood and walked out of the door of the small glass cubicle. The police station looked like half its force had 'food poisoning'.

I squinted against the bright daylight as I walked towards my truck. Everything was gone. My money, my identification. I rammed my fist into the side of the truck and ran my palms over my face, trying to calm my breathing. As far as anybody was concerned, I didn't exist. And if I didn't find a fast way to change that, I wouldn't.

The mythology book was still in the back of the truck, more bent and battered than before after the sudden delivery Mr Delacroix had ordered the previous night. Having dislodged itself from under the metal grooves, it swam freely across the chipping blue ridges. Absent-mindedly I picked it up and began leafing through it. There he was again, a sombre, sullen fellow in a massive horned helmet. It really was a poor likeness. There was a savagery in the black crosshatch drawing that was missing entirely from the pale and smooth contours of his face. Loki was a prince. The figure in the book was a figure and nothing more. My eyes fell across the words 'Frost Giant'. I began to read.

I made it a point to drive slowly and obediently back to the house, just in case I was hauled up for running a stop-sign. Even if I was living off half a tank of gas and walking whenever I could, I simply couldn't afford to have my car impounded. I would be better off dead. That's a cheery thought right so early in the day. I stopped in the middle of an uncharacteristically empty South Dutton street to allow an elderly couple to cross. They were taking their own sweet time and I allowed myself a brief moment of tire-squeaking speeding just getting away from the intersection. Truth be told, law and order seemed to be taking a brief hiatus from Dutton, that day. Everything was infuriating me. The tall buildings, the obstinately straight tar roads, even the dull looking pigeons that lined the telephone wires. And then there was the crack of a rifle every few minutes as I ambled down past the game park.

The axe sighed through the air before splitting the wood. The shoulders strained against its weight as it went up again and then came crashing down onto the scarred stump behind the house. I found the motion almost therapeutic. It was a stroke of dumb luck that I hadn't lost a finger or a toe or an entire limb in the process. I suppose I owed it to Gregory McAllister and his military-like ways that I hadn't frozen to death in winter when the heating was out.

The breeze had cooled the sweat on my brow. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and threw the axe down onto the dead earth, sitting down on the much-abused tree stump. I cast a sour glance at the tiny pile of firewood I had managed. Pathetic little string bean.

"How are you doing, there?"

I turned to the kitchen window, which had been wrenched open to get rid of the smell of burning toast. Loki was leaning against the sill, surveying me with his contemptible bored expression.

"Couldn't you do your little multiplication trick with these?" I asked, slightly breathless, gesturing at the eight pieces of wood. I heard him snort and then disappear into the house. A moment later he reappeared next to me and I jumped. I didn't think I'd ever get used to his magic.

"There's a large amount of dishes in the sink, did you know?" He asked plainly.

I eyed him and then returned to the house grumbling. There was of course a pile-up. I grabbed a sponge from the soap dish and set to work. One more day, Paton. In twenty-four hours I would have my pay check, I would buy groceries for a month. I had gotten through my fourth plate when I saw something, from the corner of my eye, whizzing toward me from the kitchen window. Throwing myself to the side, I fell to my knees as a large chunk of wood shot across the sink and landed on the kitchen floor. I was followed by many more.

"Loki!" I screeched, once the flying army of firewood seemed to have ceased movement. He was grinning at me from the back of the house, the axe lying in the dust where I had left it.
"You're welcome!" He called.

It was satisfying to watch the fire burn in the little pebbled circle I had created in the back. Inexplicably, there were two bags of marshmallows between us. I soon found that sticks were really only for mortals. Loki watched the soft whites begin to melt in the mouth of the flames. They were suspended mid-air, over the amber tongues.
"Now," I breathed, holding out the two ceramic plates in my hands. Loki directed the roasted marshmallows onto the plates. He sat down on the tree stump, and I on the bare ground.
"So who'd you steal these from, then?"
"Your vocabulary is wholly unflattering, Paton."
"Let's hear it. Was it the farmer's kid?"
"As a matter of fact, these weren't stolen. Simply borrowed. And with the aid of the little chap. What was his name? Ah, Samuel."
"Self-explanatory, as always," I sighed.
"While you were busy sleeping, I took the liberty of taking a stroll."
I choked on a hot piece of marshmallow, cupping my hand over my mouth and blinking away tears, "What the bloody hell?"
"You should've let it cool."
"No! I mean, why'd you go on out without me?"
"I wasn't aware I needed my nanny's permission."
"Hilarious," I narrowed my eyes. "But you're not a Midgardian, any amount of things could go wrong with a god waltzing about the street."
"As if it already hasn't?"
"What happened with the farmer's boy?"
"Well, he found me by the orchard and thought I was a vagrant. Can you believe it? I might have turned him into a toad if he hadn't offered to lend me food and clothing."
"Clothing?" My voice rose at the end slightly. Well it was hardly my fault I couldn't be dressing him in fine linens, I had myself to worry about.
"Yes. He said they were his uncle's and they wouldn't be missed."

I watched Loki's face a long while as he watched the fire crackling happily in its little Palaeolithic hearth. The ochre glow warmed his eyes considerably.
Frost Giant?
"What?"
I blinked rapidly as he turned to me, "hm?"
"What did you just say?"
I picked at a spot on my plate, "I-uh, nothing."
"It's not as nice as you think it is," he said darkly, flicking a handful of marshmallows into the fire and watching them roast.
"I'm sorry, what's not as nice as I think it is?"
"Frost Giants."
Are they all heartless wretches like you?
Loki scowled at me, "In Asgard I'd have had you imprisoned for less."
I threw my hands in the air, "Well excuse me for bloody sitting."
"My power grows stronger and your thoughts aren't very well guarded."
I froze. Thoughts? THOUGHTS? You can hear all of this rubbish?
"These aren't cheap parlour tricks for your amusement, Paton."
Shut up, mind. Shut up, mind. Shut up, mind.
Loki smiled slightly, shaking his head.
"But Jötunheim must be-"
"It isn't, it's a barren and frigid wasteland full of vermin."
I swallowed, "Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but aren't you-"
"No," he snapped, flinging his plate to the ground. It splintered into pieces, sending a cloud of dust into the air. The marshmallows that had been roasting fell into the charred wood and began blackening. Loki sighed, rubbing his temple with his long fingers.
This isn't dinner. You should get dinner. That'll do. Decent plan of action, alright, let's get a proper dinner.
"Yes," he breathed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" I began. "I was just reading that book and I-"
Loki looked up at me, his eyes like two pools on the surface of which danced the shadows of a wildfire.
"I don't know what it's like," I admitted. "Any of it. I probably never will know. Everything is just – all of a sudden you're here with obvious emotional baggage and you can be a complete – it's not like I don't want to help, I just don't know how."
"Paton, I'm sure you're well-meaning, but that was completely incoherent."
"You're just so out of the ordinary to me and I can't help being curious."
"You're rambling."
"I know."
"Maybe you should sit down."
"No, I should find us some dinner."
"Taken care of."
I stood watching the man before me, glaring into the firewood. A blessing, a curse, it's all the same in the end, isn't it?

Sorry I took so bloody long to update. Thank you so much for reviewing! Please tell me what you thought about this chapter! Love, S