A few days after he moves in, Loki gets ready to go shopping with Magda. He looks in the mirror and finds his cinch. It is a day to be she. And she loves the long swishing trousers and peasant top that Magda brought over after seeing some of the clothing from Asgard in the trunk. They are comfortable and make her feel more a part of Midgard. She does her hair and makeup and smiles at her reflection in the mirror. She feels like she might actually be able to make this work without shapeshifting. On her way past the closet, Loki touches the gowns from the trunk. Perhaps she will ask Magda about finding a tailor skilled enough to work in fine silk.

Downstairs, she has a quick breakfast and then writes out a list sitting at the table. Over the past few days, she has fallen in love with it, a reminder that even here in this world, she is a part of Yggdrasil, even if she can no longer feel the power of its branches. Her fingers absentmindedly trace one of the rings as she writes out what things she thinks she might like. A nice set of dishes. Coffee and a few big mugs. Books. She wants to turn the attic into a library. And groceries, though she has no idea what foods she will find in the stores here.

Magda knocks and she calls for her to enter. Magda already acts like an old friend. They embrace and greet one another with kisses on their cheeks.

"Are you ready to venture out today?"

"Yes. But I have no idea what it is I might need."

Magda glances over the list, "Perhaps we might add some cleaning supplies to your list- I do not like the harsh chemicals I have found here, but I will teach you how to do things more simply, as we did back home."

"I would appreciate that. Is there anything else you see missing? I believe food and books are all I need."

"I do not see anything wrong with that. We shall see what we find in the stores. They are set up to try to sell you things you do not need, things you might like for convenience. We will be wise in our spending, though."

"Do you have a car? Or is there another way to get to these places?"

"I have a car. It is bigger than the little tin can Wanda is so fond of."

"I will welcome more room for my legs."

Magda laughs and they leave the apartment with the list. Magda's sleek black Mercedes impresses Loki- it is so different than Wanda's little red Trabant. They are out for a few hours and by the time they are done, she welcomes the comfortable dark interior as a shelter from the overwhelming nature of the farmer's market, the bath and kitchen store, and the bookstore. After the large store and busy market, the bookstore, smaller than a single floor of her row house, was stacked floor to ceiling with overcrowded shelves and was a welcome retreat.

In the car, she reached back for the bag of books and tugged one out, "Which one are you going to read first?"

"Whichever one is on top."

Magda laughs, "Of course. That is the best option when in the car, no?"

"Yes."

"So? Which is it?"

"William Blake. 'Songs of Innocence and Experience'. Poetry."

"Ah, yes. The Blake. He is a beautiful writer."

She reads intently while the car hums along on their way back to the row houses. When they arrive, she carefully tucks the book back in the bag and they unload the car. While they do, Magda notices they are being watched by a group of young men in the square. She knows them, and she does not like that they are so intently observing them.

"Be wary of those youth, Loki. They are trouble."

"Oh? What sort of trouble?"

"Inside. I will tell you inside." They finish bringing in the last of the groceries, "Shall we put away groceries?" Loki nods and points to where she wants things stored as Magda talks, "They have said some fairly awful things to the women living here. Mrs McGillan. Myself. And when they began to believe that Wanda might be more than simply my friend, it grew worse. They do not live here. I will call the police when I return home. They are not welcome and this is a private square."

"Have they harmed anyone?"

"They have threatened, but not done so yet. I am afraid of them."

"Ah. I am sorry to hear this."

"Be careful. Loki."

Once they are done, and she helps her cook supper, Magda retires to her own flat for the evening. Loki checks out the front window and does not see the young men. She brings the Blake poetry with her and steps out for a walk around the park and then some time to read in the evening light. She chooses her bench and turns her attention to the page.

"Hey, what are you?"

She looks up, "Excuse me?"

One of the young men from earlier in the day slaps her book up, "You heard me. What are you?"

"A person like so many others." She attempts to continue reading.

"Ha ha. Clever answer. But that's not what I asked. Are you a dyke? Fag? Tranny?"

"I do not wish to converse. Leave me to my reading, please."

He snatches the book and throws it over his shoulder, "Answer my question, bitch."

"I prefer not to." And as soon as the words leave her lips she knows it was the wrong answer. Someone shoves her from behind and she is dragged off the bench. The young man in front slaps her and she resists the urge to fight back, still hoping for a different resolution.

He yanks her hair, "What's this, a wig?" When her hair doesn't budge, he uses it to pull her down to her knees, "Oh we could have some fun here, couldn't we? Look at you, fucking whore. Tricking us guys, trying to fake being a woman..."

Loki keeps her breathing even, trying desperately to keep her rising fear at bay, "Let me go."

"Or you'll do what?"

"I can do little at the present, but you will rue this when my brother gets word."

"Oooh, the big scary brother! I'm trembling!" They laugh and her arms are roughly yanked behind her back, "You are going to regret the day you put on lipstick..." He lets go of her hair and one of the others takes it. First comes a kick to the stomach, then a punch in the face.

"Please, just let me be..." But the plea is cut off with another kick and she sags to the ground.

Her hair is used against her, "Kneel, bitch. Don't you go falling over. We're not done yet, and I'm going to need you on your knees in a little while."

Panic floods Loki's mind and she tries not to show it. Another blow lands on her jaw, then one to the side of her head. She tastes blood. And then there are sirens and flashing lights and she is dropped to the ground. Someone gets in one last kick before running away. She pries herself from the dirt and wipes blood from the corner of her mouth, crawling back to the bench to lean against it. Her head aches. Her jaw pops as she opens it and rubs the joint. Footsteps run after the young men.

Someone crouches beside her, "You OK...er, Miss?"

"I think I will be."

"What'd they do to you?"

She looks at the speaker- blue uniform, official looking hat, and a name badge, "Kicks in the stomach. A few punches to my head. Pulling my hair. But nothing worse."

"Do you need us to call an ambulance?"

"No."

"Name and address?"

"Loki Odinson. And I only just moved in. My address is that one...blue door."

"Did you get a good look at any of them?"

"The one in front of me. A young man. No hair. A narrow face, his cheekbones prominent. Black trousers. A baggy shirt- white, with a logo of some sort on the front. Button up."

"You've got a good eye. White or black skin?"

"Pale, like my own."

"Did they take anything?"

She pats her trousers and feels her keys, "Only my book. He tossed it over his shoulder. Poetry- William Blake."

"OK. We'll look for it. Do you need help getting home?"

"I don't think so."

The officer helps her up, "You sure you don't want us to call an ambulance? Make sure they didn't bust your spleen or something?"

"I will be fine. I just need to rest."

"OK, but you call 911 if you feel funny."

"Thank you."

Loki walks slowly towards her row house, still stunned by what has happened. Magda opens her front door and runs out to meet her.

"Oh my god, what happened?" She puts her arms around Loki to steady her.

"The young men were none too pleased that I was in the park."

"What did they do to you?"

"Called me names I do not understand and struck me. What does it mean to be called a fag? Or tranny?"

Magda's face falls and she tries to keep from crying, "Oh Loki...you're such an innocent to this... I do not want to have to explain these things, but I will once you are comfortable."

"They are that bad?"

"Yes, they are."

"Oh..."

"I wonder who called the police?"

Loki fumbles with her key. Magda steadies her hand. She tosses it on the dining table and drops onto the couch. Magda makes tea and then settles beside her to tell her what the words mean and to talk her through her first encounter with transphobia. It is not a new experience, this short debriefing. She has done it many times, but it still hurts. When she is done, Loki asks for time alone and Magda grants it on one condition- that she promise to call if she feels like hurting herself. And Loki agrees. There is honest, deep concern in Magda's eyes and she kisses Loki's forehead before she leaves.

The moment she is in her own home, she calls Wanda, "I think you need to call Loki."

"Why? Is he struggling?"

"She just experienced her first hate crime."

Wanda nearly drops the phone, "Is she going to be alrignt?"

"I think so. Bruises, but nothing more serious, that she told me about. But I am worried. She is sitting in the dark in her house. I had to explain the words... Just call. Please. She needs to hear your voice. She trusts you. And she asked me to leave."

"I will. Thank you, Magda. For taking care of her as much as you could."

"I just hope the police catch those assholes."

"They had better hope the police find them before Thor does."

"Well they certainly would never consider it again if he took matters into his own hands, now would they?"

"They would not be capable of it."

"I would not be sad for them, Wanda. Not after all I have heard them say. And not after seeing the look on Loki's face when I had to explain to her the history of the word fag."

"Oh...god..."

"Yes. I will go. You, call." Magda hangs up.

Wanda calls. The phone rings and rings. Voicemail. She hangs up. She calls again. This time she leaves a message. Then she calls again. And again. And then she throws her phone in her bag, grabs her keys, and runs down the stairs.