His head was a world of hurt in itself, his eyelids heavy, as if someone had elephants sit on them. He couldn't feel his hands, or his feet. He could only be sure that there was something sticky on his face.

And there were people around him. Three, perhaps five. He could hear their unending murmuring, and it was getting annoying.

Be silent, he tried to say, but his mouth wouldn't obey him. Frustration washed over him. What was his body capable of doing anymore? Why would his muscles betray him so?

Perhaps he shouldn't have had that last glass of wine in that dusty little inn. He did have some doubts about the time the stew spent standing in the cauldron as well, if the roiling of his stomach was to be trusted.

The inn...

All his pain evaporated, as if a bolt of lightning drove the troublesome sensations out.

The inn. Where he fought that swindler. The people who were watching.

And the four who were following him.

"Shh," a voice, distinctly that of a woman, hissed at the others, "I think he is waking up."

"Already?" a deep rumble asked, "But it has barely been a day."

A horse whinnied softly near his ears.

"Do not forget, that the tranquiliser was developed for our people. I'm surprised it was effective at all."

The headache was back, with all the force of a blacksmith's hammer crashing down, as he managed to open his eyes. For a moment, he couldn't see anything from the light flooding them, but the image slowly cleared up.

First, he felt relief when he saw the familiar blue-black mane of his horse. The old beast had carried him through turbulent places and proved loyal, even when others would have run.

The second thing he saw was the scowling face of Sif, which was turned right at him, sitting rigid on her own palfrey.

"Good morning, sleepy head," Fandrall – it had to be Fandrall – said on his other side, "It's nice of you to join us."

Loki tried to spit out something, but was forced to screw up his face in pain instead, as his head turned towards the blonde man; his mouth still wouldn't obey him, even if feeling was coming back into his limbs. He looked at his hands, bound tightly together by an all too familiar device and raised them, looking questioningly at the swordsman.

"Yes, old champ, those are what they appear to be," he nodded with a grin, then tilted his head towards Volstagg and Hogunn, "These two were rather unhappy about the possibility of living the lest of their lives as frogs, so we took some precautions."

"Toads," the warlock croaked through his dry lips, "Frogs... Too pretty. Or snails. Can be... Crushed."

Fandrall rewarded that with a side glance.

"Yes, well, let's not talk about crushing each other right now. We did try asking nicely."

Loki snorted, but regretted that as it turned into a cough. Just what manner of tranquiliser did he get knocked out by?

"Still can't handle... Rejection?"

"I can, if it's a lady I'm otherwise not interested in."

"I can... Do that."

"No," Fandrall chuckled, „I'm afraid not this time. It wasn't just sweet-talk, Loki. Frigga deemed that we do need you, despite the obvious doubts of some when it comes to you."

"So it wasn't Odin after all," Loki said bitterly. Sif shook her head in disbelief, her ponytail swishing around.

"Of course not. But she has such powers of persuasion over him as no other does."

"Yes. I know. But did she agree to me being tied up like some ham, too?"

"No," the woman answered with a small smile, that told him just how much she was enjoying the situation,"„That's to ensure you don't run or act nasty."

"And of course, you were the one to tie me up, I presume?"

"Yes. Yes, I was."

"Ouch, Sif. I thought you were long past that."

"Over what? That you had attacked me after I poured out my should to you and left me locked up? Yes, I might still have some leftover bitterness."

"We should make camp," Volstagg interrupted quickly, before their banter could get more heated, "The sun is setting. I don't want to ride through unknown lands in the dark."

"Scared of what might be lurking in it, o', mighty warrior?" Loki asked, "Where is the man who'd take on the mountain wolves in the middle of the Jötunn winter?"

"Replaced by a wiser one, I should hope."

"The horses are fed," Hogunn reported as he settled down by the fire, "Perhaps it's time we eat."

"I can't wait," Loki said, lifting his hands, "Mayhaps I could be spared these for the duration?"

"Be glad that we didn't bind your ankles and stuff your mouth," Sif snapped, "You'd deserve that and more."

"But seeing as Queen Frigga had forbidden us from doing that," Fandrall chimed in, "We won't be doing that. She's doing well, by the way, I'm sure she's glad you asked" he added, directed at the warlock, who didn't even react, "I thought you would be happier about going home. Didn't you want to see her?"

"Should I have?"

"Don't bother, Fandrall. When has he ever proven that he can feel such human things as love or sadness?" Sif asked, looking challengingly at the Trickster, but his face remained smiling.

"Obviously."

"That's sad, for she asked us to send her a hawk immediately, when found, to report on your state. You don't deserve her kindness."

"Enough, Sif," Volstagg said, handing her a bowl of soup. „What's past is past. We won't reach any faster if you're constantly at each others throat."

"Playing it nice as to not be turned into an amphibian in the foreseeable future?"

"Yes," the warrior said, reclining back onto a rock, "You could put it that way. A man has to try and hope when there is no mead to do it for him."

"I wouldn't advise running," Hogunn addressed Loki, noticing his sideways glance at the horses, "We'd catch you in no time."

"Did that ever stop me from trying, though?"

"The poison certainly did."

"That's nasty piece of work, I'll give you that much. Yet, I think I shall manage. I usually do."

"You are one ungrateful little shit, aren't you" the woman growled, "Do you know how much it took Frigga to make Odin realise that for some reason, your way is the only way? That you are the only one who has the chance of finding Thor?"

"No. Not particularly. Not that I care, either."

She barked a laugh.

"Oh, how happy she'll be to hear that, especially after what she had to pay for him to..."

"Sif," Fandrall gave her a warning glance.

„What?" Sif snapped, "The whole of the country knows about the curse. Perhaps he'd be more cooperating, if he knew she also got Odin to promise that he'll lift it in case he's successful."

"So she – and you – are dangling the honeyed strands of hopes and promises, which might not even be fulfilled."

"Whyever not? Would you say that you deserve more than promises?"

"No," Loki answered with a smile, "I figure not. The visit should be worth it anyway. Just imagine the look on the Valkyriors' faces!"

"I just changed my mind," Fandrall said, "We should just leave him here. I don't want to be the one standing between Loki and Brunnhilde's spear."

"I doubt you'd be quick enough to do that."

"Gee. Thanks for having your faith in me. It warms my soul."

"Why are you even chatting with him?" Sif asked, munching on a piece of bread.

"Well, for one – because you do. Also, he's here, in our charge, so I can't just ignore him. And we have at least a week to travel before we reach Asgard. I'm simply not able to spend that much time and energy on trying to wipe that self-satisfied grin off his face, simply because he's probably nearly totally remorseless. Then, there is the fact that he's much better with his words than any of us with ours; there is no point in trying."

"Finally," Loki said mockingly, while inspecting his cuffs which glinted orange in the light of the fire, "Someone recognising my talents."

"Just don't grow over-confident, Sir Talent. I still am much better with swords. Especially against a sorcerer handcuffed."