Snow whirled through the air on a frost-bitten gale of torrential force. The sky above was filled with storm clouds, so all-encompassing and imposingly grey even when veins of lightning crackled through them, illuminating the sky. Such a stark contrast with the endless plains of snow-covered grounds below. White in every direction. So endlessly white. For miles and miles, all that could be seen was snow. The storm was relentless, scaring away all manner of living things to hide in holes and trees and underground. Anywhere that offered even a modicum of shelter - of warmth.

And yet, she stood there anyway, as if in defiance of it. Raising her head to face the wild winds as if it were only a cool breeze that kissed against her skin.

The woman was old. Time had drained the colour from her hair though the signs that those dreadlocks were once inky black still remained. Her dark skin was wrinkled. It was stretched and thinning over the bones in her hands, which she clasped together calmly in front of her. She was patient. Waiting for something.

For her.

She opened her eyes. They glowed golden, bright with knowing.

She turned them once again in Reagan's direction and beckoned her towards her through the storm.

Reagan awoke with a sharp gasp as she shot up in bed, gazing wildly around the room, trying to orient herself. It was the earliest hours of the morning. The sun had not yet risen and their bedroom was cloaked in darkness since the embers of their evening fire had died away to nothing. Cool air kissed her clammy skin as she exhaled shakily and swept her hair back from her face. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.

Beside her, Loki sat up slowly. She felt the mattress shift behind her slightly as he leaned his weight on one hand there, the other settling on her shoulder, stroking the length of her arm soothingly. He pressed a slow kiss to her bare shoulder blade as she worked to steady her breathing.

"This is the third night in a row you've dreamed of her," he murmured into the darkness.

"I know," Reagan whispered back, drawing her knees up to her chest to hug them. There was no point in denying it, she knew he'd seen it.

The first time she'd dreamed of her, Reagan had thought nothing of it. Just a dream. Nothing more. The second time, she'd thought it was an odd coincidence. She'd never had the exact same dream twice before. She'd told Loki in passing when they'd woken the next day. The third time it had happened, she'd known. Something was wrong. This wasn't normal. She'd woken Loki. Told him. Showed him. And a chill had swept through her as she'd watched his expression darken. He'd watched over her that night, his consciousness had surrounded her mind. He'd brought his shields down around her like he'd been trying to act as armour. All through the night he'd stayed there, a comfort to her, a blanket. And she'd slept peacefully. And then only two nights later she'd dreamed of her again, despite her shields - despite his.

Now, more than a fortnight had passed and the dreams weren't only becoming more frequent, but also more vivid.

"Do you have any idea who she is?" Loki asked. "Any clues at all?"

He already knew the answer to that question but he felt her desire to talk with him.

She shook her head.

"No... but I know where she is. She's in Norway. She's standing exactly where I..."

"Where you gained your powers."

"Yeah," she whispered.

Loki remained quiet, studying her in the darkness. He waited, knowing she wanted to form some thought into words.

"It's not like I'm there," she told him, her eyes unfocused as if she were still lost in the dream. "I'm not there with her. But she can see me. Or maybe... It's that she knows I can see her. I just- I don't understand why. I don't understand what she wants."

Loki felt the anxiety she was trying to suppress or perhaps was pretending to ignore and he darkened. It didn't matter what the strange woman wanted, she wouldn't get it. She would die for her invasion of Reagan's mind alone, he'd already decided that much.

Reagan was his. She'd only just become his. There was no way he'd allow some witch to steal her away from him. He'd tear the universe apart before letting that happen. The woman would rue the day she ever decided to toy with his mortal.

"You know I won't let any harm come to you," he promised.

Reagan turned towards him and offered him a gentle smile.

"I know," she assured him.

But it had Loki's stomach sinking because he could read her answer for what it was. She didn't think there was anything he could do. He'd tried to shield her mind, they'd tried together - it hadn't mattered. The dreams still came. This woman still found her way to her. And she was afraid, even if she tried to hide it from him.

And so that settled a certain matter for Loki. A path was chosen. An idea he'd been toying with for a few days, unsure he wanted to proceed. He hadn't put voice to it yet. Hadn't told Reagan of the person who might be able to help, because he didn't want to remind her of the darker side of himself. But she was afraid, and she was vulnerable to... whatever this new threat was. And so, it was decided. He'd inform her of his plan in the morning. For now, she needed him.

Loki took in her weary features and even in the darkness Reagan could see the concern on his face.

"It's exhausting worrying about it," Reagan admitted. "I just want to sleep."

"I may have a way to help you relax," Loki replied, pressing another kiss to her shoulder.

Reagan blanched slightly, having spent the better part of the evening pinned to the mattress in some way or another.

"Again?!"

Loki laughed against her skin.

"I'd never deny you that if you thought it would help, but I actually had something else in mind."

"Such as?"

"Well," he tilted his head. "I was hoping to save this in case I was losing an argument. But I do have an enchantment of sorts."

She looked at him slyly. "What does it do?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do."

Loki shifted then so that he was facing her, cupping her cheek with his index finger pressing to her temple. Reagan gazed up at him openly, waiting.

"Sleep," he murmured gently, the word laced with magic.

Instantly, Reagan's eyelid fell shut and her muscles went slack. Loki caught her, cradling her head as she lulled against him and gently, he laid her back onto her pillow, now deeply, comfortably asleep.

Loki swept her hair back from her face and drew her blankets up over her shoulders as she curled into the comfort of the soft linens. He brushed his mind against hers and loosed a soft sigh. Her dreams were peaceful and lilting. No sign of the woman, at least for now.

And though Loki lay back and settled in beside her, one arm slinging around her waist to draw her in just a little closer, he didn't close his eyes. Didn't let sleep take him. Instead, he watched over her.

Loki sat reclined in a chair by the window, reading by the muted light of the early morning sunrise. He was bare-chested, wearing only loose pants, with his feet propped up on a cushioned stool.

He glanced at the bed. Reagan's sleeping form was still cuddled up in the soft blankets, one arm slung over the pillow beside her as if she were reaching for him. He smiled softly at the sight.

He'd watched over her through the night. She'd slept undisturbed and he was glad for it. For the past week she'd been making a subtle attempt to avoid sleep, insisting she wasn't tired, that she wanted to stay up into the late hours of the evening to be with him. And a selfish part of him had indulged her for a time because he too wanted her to avoid dreams of the woman.

He prickled at the very thought of her, this woman with her golden eyes and a smile that was almost motherly. She never spoke. Never gave anything away. She only beckoned Reagan to her. Did she know that he was watching too? Is that way she gave nothing away? Not a hint of who she was or how to kill her. The latter being the only part that Loki really cared about.

He was so very bitter at the universe. To have finally been granted something good - to have her with him - knowing that it was already to be something so painfully fleeting, and then to have this threat to it so soon. Of course, something would come to try and rip her away from him.

He'd destroy it.

Whatever this woman was, he'd destroy her.

He wouldn't allow Reagan to be harmed.

He wouldn't allow her to be taken from him.

He wouldn't allow this peace that he found at long last to be disturbed-

"You were saving that for an argument?!" Reagan suddenly exclaimed indignantly as she sat bolt upright in bed, breaking Loki's train of thought.

He didn't even bother to hide his smirk from her.

"Good morning, darling," he drawled, eyes still fixed on his book.

With a grumble under her breath, she climbed out of bed and shrugged on a silken robe she'd had hanging nearby then padded towards him, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Loki shifted his arms, allowing space for her as she climbed into his lap, curling into the warmth of him. His arms encircled her and he pressed a slow kiss to her temple.

They sat there, curled around each other in comfortable silence. Loki read his book while Reagan listened to the sound of his pulse beating steadily beneath her head where it rested against his shoulder.

"It helped," she told him eventually. "Thank you."

"I'm glad."

"I didn't dream about her."

"I know," Loki murmured. "I was watching."

She stiffened slightly against him.

"Oh. So, you saw the..."

He smirked. "I did indeed."

"I can explain."

"There's no need for that. I've grown rather accustomed to your strange little mortal dreams. And it's hardly the first oddity I've come across in that head of yours."

She laughed softly at that before she lifted her head to look at him.

"I've been thinking," she said softly. "About how it feels. The dream... I don't think she wants to hurt me."

Loki's stomach clenched terribly at that. He didn't want her afraid - it was the last thing he wanted - but he also loathed the idea of Reagan falling for whatever game the woman was playing with her.

"She may want you to think that," he told her steadily. "Just because she hasn't made an attempt yet, doesn't mean that she won't."

"No, I know," she assured him. "I'm still... worried. I just- whatever she wants, I don't think she wants to hurt me. It's more like... like she wants to tell me something. Or- or maybe she needs my help or-"

"Reagan," Loki interjected gently. "Please, don't allow yourself room to trust her. She's dangerous. To surpass either of our shields..."

He swallowed. There was something in her that gave her the ability to see past the worst in people, to look for what could be hidden deeper. She'd been able to forgive him for the worst parts of himself. Perhaps it was because she'd longed for that herself since her disaster in Norway, but Loki suspected it was something far more innate than that. It was just something she was made of. And that gentleness in her, he treasured it. Needed it.

Because if she didn't possess it, well, Loki certainly would have her there wrapped up in his arms at that moment. This capacity for forgiveness, empathy, understanding. Hope. It made her a far better person than he could ever hope to be.

But it also left her vulnerable.

And if the woman knew that, it was something she could use. Twist. Manipulate.

"I'm not trusting her," she assured him, watching the dark cloud form in him. "I promise. I'm just... whatever she wants, I don't think she's going to hurt me."

Loki's jaw tightened even as he nodded. He didn't want this to turn into a fight. But this is how it could start. So easily, this could be the crack - the window - that the woman was waiting for. A way to gain better access.

"For now... for me," he pleaded softly, "Please, just act as if harming you is her only motive. Just until we learn more."

She studied him, the very sight of that vaguely concealed worry in his eyes made her chest ache.

"I need you safe," he murmured.

"Okay," she conceded with a gentle nod. "For you."

He breathed his relief.

"Thank you."

Reagan smiled a little then.

"You know, certain people did try to warn me against trusting you, and that worked out alright," she teased as if reading the thought he'd had just a few moments ago. And perhaps she had.

"A perfect example that you probably should have listened to," he rebutted. "You haven't even noticed yet that I've kidnapped you away with no intention of ever giving you back."

"Wow, how embarrassing for you that you think you're the one doing the kidnapping. Do you have any idea what kind of ransom I could get for a Prince? Soon I'm going to be able to buy diamonds just to decorate my other diamonds."

"Ah, is that what you're supposed to do?" Loki mused. "How foolish I've been with my wealth."

"I've always thought so."

The pair smiled at one another before Loki's demeanour shifted once again into something more sombre.

"I've been thinking it over and there's someone who I'd like to take you to meet with," he murmured, the words tasting bitter on his tongue even as he forced himself to voice them. "Someone from my past who has a... complex relationship with magic. She can wield it in a way that few others can. She may be able to shed some light upon how to deal with this intruder of yours."

"Who is she?"

"A woman called Asta. She's an old acquaintance. We became familiar at the time that I was delving into dark magic. I merely dabbled by comparison to the treacherous path she took, and she's suffered consequences for that. However, it has left her with particular abilities. Affinities that may be advantageous to us now."

Reagan nodded, taking in the information.

"An acquaintance," she repeated. "Not a friend?"

A short laugh escaped him.

"Far from it, actually."

"But you trust her."

"Not at all. Not even a little. But I have something that she wants so she'll be interested in doing business. And I know that she'll deliver what I ask of her as she owes me a rather significant debt."

"Why?"

"Because I killed her sister."

Reagan stilled, her lips parted in surprise.

"Oh," she breathed.

Loki's eyes met hers, and a conflict of emotions shifted through the bond. He readied himself. For her disgust, her disdain. It didn't come.

"Thank you for being honest with me," she said earnestly.

Loki almost crumbled under her gaze.

"Thank you for not running away," he murmured sincerely.

Her face softened and she reached up to card her fingers through his hair.

"You can stop waiting for that to happen, you know," Reagan said. "I've told you I've made my mind up."

It was so easy - too easy - for her to shatter him into pieces.

She accepted him. All of him. Not just the parts she liked the most. It was something he still found difficult to accept as truth. And where he intended to take her, the people she'd meet, the light in which she'd see him. He very well may have to put that to the test.

And yet, he was steady. Resolute.

Any price to keep her safe.

"So, how do we find her?" Reagan asked at last.

"It won't be difficult," Loki replied. "She does her bidding at a nearby tavern."

"Her bidding," Reagan grinned. "How ominous."

"We'll go there and announce that I'm in Vanaheim," he went on, his tone somewhat sombre. "Once the word spreads it won't be long before she seeks me out herself."

Reagan faltered a little, it was odd for him to remain so serious when she was trying to play with him.

"What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

Loki's gaze fell. He ran his hand tenderly along her thigh.

"I'm just not overly fond of the idea of taking you to this place. To the people who dwell there. A lot of them are rather... unsavoury."

"You couldn't bring Asta here instead then?"

"No," Loki said adamantly. "No, the less she knows about where we reside - the less she knows about you - the better. Knowledge is a weapon she won't hesitate to wield. Best not to brandish her with anything more than is absolutely necessary."

Reagan nodded her understanding.

"I'm not going to tell her what we are," Loki murmured. "And I'm certainly not going to tell her of the mark. And I know how little you are going to enjoy this request, but please, if we meet with her, remain quiet. Just allow me to take the lead."

She snorted a little.

"You're right, I don't enjoy that request at all."

"Reagan-"

"I promise to try my best," she told him, sincerely.

It was the best Loki could hope for.

The journey to the tavern was far shorter than Reagan had expected. Having been alone in the mountains in Loki's cabin for the past few weeks with only each other as company, it had begun to feel like they were the only two people on the entire planet. But it was only a few hours' journey before the sounds of nature - the rustling of tree branches and songs of wild birds and sweeping winds through forest thickets - were replaced by the sound of townsfolk chattering, the heavy cog of wooden wagons, the braying of mules.

It was a modest-looking town. Crooked little buildings made of cobbled stones with slightly slanting chimneys. The smell of roasting meals wafted through the air, and the shouting of salesmen suggested that some kind of market was taking place. It didn't seem to interest Loki. He steered Reagan around the outskirts of the town, remaining out of sight.

Reagan didn't need the bond to sense the tension coiling in him. It was easy enough to read in the stern set of his jaw, the way his posture was poised and ready as if for a fight, the way he scanned their surroundings with such caution. And while Reagan was usually able to coax him into a better mood when she found him in darkness, today he seemed rather determined to brood.

But still, each time she reached for his hand he took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. And it brought a little comfort to each of them.

Soon, they'd left earshot of the bustling town square and found themselves weaving through a far less inhabited part of the town. The buildings there were older, more decrepit, and appeared far less inhabited. The paths were cracked and uneven, the shrubbery overgrown, the windows were either cracked, boarded or missing entirely, and even out in the open, Reagan could smell mildew.

Only one building in this area of the town appeared to be inhabited at all - though it rather looked like it shouldn't be. The two approached the dilapidated tavern and the sound of idle chatter could be heard from within. The exterior was weathered, decaying. Its roof visibly bowed ominously, as if the weight of a harsh winter could bring it down upon its occupants.

Before pushing the door open, Loki turned back to her once more.

"Stay close to me in here," he murmured and Reagan nodded.

She followed him inside into the muted light of meagre oil lamps. The air was thick with smoke, accompanied by the smell of ale and incense and unwashed bodies. Conversations and raucous laughter swelled from huddles around tables, paired with the heavy thud of pints set down up tables, coins tossed this way and that over lazy wagers, and the slightly off-key music being played by two men with strange instruments in the far corner of the tavern.

There was a thick kind of tension in the atmosphere. As if a brawl could break out at any given moment - and not for the first time that day.

It wasn't lost on Reagan the way those who glanced up from their drinks to find Loki sauntering into the dwellings seemed to freeze - pale, even - as they recognised him. He didn't so much as acknowledge their existence.

Reagan scanned the faces they passed, careful not to make lingering eye contact. These people all carried weapons - so many weapons - though, they were far from soldiers. Sell-swords, perhaps, marauders.

Though she didn't reach for him here, in front of these people, she stayed close to Loki's side as they eyed him cautiously.

Loki surveyed the tavern coolly, once again wearing that calm, disinterested mask he could so easily adorn. Seeing him like this, so dramatically contrasted with the tension she'd seen in him during their journey here, made Reagan realise exactly how vulnerable he'd allowed himself to be around her that morning. She brushed gently against the bond, hoping he'd understand. And though he didn't react outwardly, the brush she received in response spoke volumes.

Soon, Loki's focus seemed to zero in on a certain individual seat alone at a small, round table.

The man was leaned in his chair as if he'd resided there for days, nursing a near-black ale. He was older, and gritty. His facial features, which might have once even been handsome, were interrupted by three deeply gnarled scars, as if something with claws had tried to rip his face off entirely and had very nearly succeeded. And there was something in his hunched posturing that gave off the distinct impression that he desired to be left alone.

Loki slid casually into the empty chair opposite him.

"How many years have passed and you're still festering away in this wretched hole, Taq," he drawled by way of greeting.

The man laughed before he even looked up to meet his eye.

"I've always said if never had to hear that fuckin' voice o' yours again it would still be too soon," he muttered in return.

A lazy smirk spread across Loki's face as he watched the man, not bothering with a retort.

"The fuck are you doing here, Odinson? Last I heard you were causing all manner o' problems in Midgard. Bored o' that already are ya?"

"Yes, well, it all got a little monotonous after a time. It turns out the mortals there are all dreadfully dull creatures."

Reagan rolled her eyes at that even Loki prodded playfully at the bond. She turned away from the table to scan the rest of the bar. She'd been so distracted by the people occupying the tavern that she hadn't noticed upon arrival that the walls of the tavern were actually decorated. There were framed paintings. Strange, shifting images that morphed into something slightly grotesque if she angled her head. She moved towards them to take a closer look as the conversation continued on behind her.

"What do you want, then?" Loki's companion asked, getting straight to business.

"I'm looking for Asta."

"Of course, you are. I should've guessed."

Stay close, Loki's voice sounded in her mind as his conversation continued on behind her.

I will, she replied as she continued to wander idly, inspecting the paintings on the walls.

They seemed innocent enough at first - simple portraits, or landscapes. Depictions of people bustling through a town square. Children playing. But the longer Reagan seemed to gaze at each image, the more they seemed to shift before her eyes. Limbs elongated into something unnatural. Boils seemed to swell, even on plants or pathways. Expressions of joy morphed into silent, open-mouthed groans of anguish. A chill swept down her spine as she moved to each new painting, unable to tear her gaze from them.

Suddenly, a huge, calloused hand caught hold of her arm, breaking her from her trance. It was a large hand, so large it engulfed the majority of her forearm. Reagan stilled and turned to find what was essentially a hulking mass of corded muscles holding onto her. The massive man smiled at her like she were prey. Even seated in his chair he was near to the same height as her. There were three others with him, each equally, shockingly large.

"Hey there, girlie," he drawled. "I ain't seen you around here before."

His voice was impossibly deep and his ever-growing grin revealed rotten, stinking teeth that seemed far too large for his face.

"I'm not from around here," Reagan replied evenly, subtly trying to pull his arm free of his vicelike grasp.

"That right? Well, why don't you come and have a drink with me and the lads? We'll get acquainted."

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Come on, darlin'. Play nice. I got a lovely warm seat for you to sit on," he spread his legs a little wider and pat his lap invitingly.

Reagan made no attempt to hide her disgust.

She glanced around the table at the massive man and his companions. Each of them wore their own sinister grin. It was then that Reagan noticed another individual sitting at the table, squished between two of the gargantuan men was a small slender woman, with skin a pallid shade of blue. Her eyes were wide and watery and she glanced nervously between the two men she'd been sandwiched between. Reagan glanced down at the woman's hands to find they were trembling. Almost hesitantly, the woman looked up at her, feeling her gaze on her.

Their eyes met.

She was petrified.

Slowly, subtly - such a small gesture that Reagan almost missed it - the woman shook her head. And Reagan wondered how was it possible for such a small motion to be so filled with fear.

She fought to hold back the rage that instantly flooded through her. Willed herself to remain calm even as her heart started to thunder, her adrenaline spiking. She stared at the woman for a few more moments, before turning back once more to meet the eye of the beast who was still clutching onto her arm.

"I'm only going to say this once. You're going to take your fucking hand off me," she told him, her voice laced with suppressed anger. "And you're also going to let her go. Now."

The three hulking men at the table laughed at that. The closest to the blue woman slung an arm around her shoulder lazily just to emphasise how ridiculous they'd found the warning. The woman winced.

The grip on Reagan's arm tightened - vice-like, on the verge of painful. Evidently, her new acquaintance didn't like to be told no. Reagan suspected that it wasn't something people - women, rather - often dared to say to him.

"You're a right little feisty one, aren't ya?" he growled as he drew her in towards him. With his free hand, he pulled out a long knife, the sharp edge of it glinting in the low light. "Here's what's going to happen, darlin'. You're gonna sit on my lap like a good little girl and you're gonna have some fun with me. You're gonna grind up on me a little in front of my boys here just for havin' the nerve to speak back to me. And if you don't, I'm going to slice that pretty little face of yours clean off - and your new friend's, for good measure - and I'll take them home as a keepsake while I leave you here screamin' while you bleed out."

Reagan glowered at him.

"What do ya say to that, darlin'?"

"I say it's disappointing but not at all surprising to learn that assholes like you exist on every planet."

"What did you call me?"

"I called you a huge puckering asshole."

The grip on her arm released as the man thrust his chair back and stood to full height. Reagan watched as the thing before her rose taller and taller. He was easily nine feet tall and as broad as three men. He towered over her, his reeking breath stinging her nostrils as he leaned closer to growl a low warning.

"Say that again and see what happens."

She stepped closer to him. Beneath her skin, her fire was raging. It yearned to be set forth like never before.

"Let her go," she defiantly.

"Do you know what I did to the last person who dared to insult me?"

"Did you breathe on them? Because just going by that smell, I thought asshole was exactly what you were aiming for."

He snarled in outrage, and just as he was snapping, just as his fingers were flexing to reach for her and attack - just as she was poising herself to summon her flames - another hulking mass blocked his path, snatching his wrist mid-strike and holding him back.

"Dredgryn, stop!" the slightly smaller man warned in a low voice. Reagan wasn't even sure where he had come from. He hadn't been seated at the table with the others. When he spoke again, there was a notable tremor to his words.

"Don't touch her," he warned. "Not that one."

Reagan's would-be attacker looked at the newcomer questioningly, a snarl still adorning his features.

"I saw her come in," he hissed, low and quick. "She's here with the Silvertongue."

It was with mild surprise and immense satisfaction that she watched the colour drain from the massive face before her. His eyes widened as he snapped his attention away from Reagan and directed it to the smaller man standing before him.

"He's back," his companion warned. "I saw him with me own eyes."

"You're certain?"

"He's looking for the Witchling."

Dredgryn swore under his breath.

"We gotta get outta here before he-"

"There you are," Loki's silklike voice sounded behind her, deathly calm.

I distinctly remember warning you to stay close.

I thought I was, relatively.

Reagan had been so caught up in her fury that she'd almost forgotten he was there with her. And now, those three velvety words purred behind her, his presence in her mind - they felt like armour. A smile tugged at her lips.

Not five minutes have passed and already I'm rescuing you from peril. Why am I not surprised?

It's not me you're rescuing, trust me.

The atmosphere in the room shifted entirely, as if a cold snap had occurred, zapping away any source of warmth. Idle background chatter died away as everyone present turned to watch the God of Mischief approach. He moved slowly, his movements graceful, powerful and calculated. And though he moved to stand beside Reagan, his cold gaze was fixed on Dredgryn who made no attempt to conceal his horror.

"Making new friends, I see," Loki said to her, casually.

"Hardly," she muttered.

"Hello, Dredgryn," he said to the creature before them. And though his voice sounded light, it was laced with venom.

"Sir... Sire. We hadn't heard- what brings you back to Vanaheim?"

"That's of no concern to you."

"Right. My apologies. Of course, not."

"I can't help but notice, Dredgryn," Loki observed, casually, "that you aren't kneeling right now."

Dredgryn instantly fell to his knees before him, and his companions followed suit, practically toppling from their chairs to fall before him.

"Much better."

"Please, sire. We want no trouble."

Loki pulled a rather perplexed face, though his demeanour remained composed. He turned his attention to Reagan, studying her for a moment, and then to the blue woman who was still sitting at the table and who looked - if possible - even more terrified than before.

"That's not how it appeared just a moment ago," Loki said. "In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would have assumed that you and your... associates had fallen back into old habits again."

Each of the creatures kneeling before him seemed to cringe at the implication.

Loki stepped closer to them, leaning over Dredgryn's hulking, cowering form.

"You made two rather fatal mistakes today," he murmured dangerously. "The first was forgetting what I promised to do to you if I ever caught word of you placing an unwanted hand on a woman ever again."

"Please, have mercy."

"The second," Loki went on as he ignored his pleas, "was to touch something that belongs to me."

Fresh horror marred the hulking creature's face as he gaped suddenly - wide-eyed - at Reagan and then at Loki once more.

The pale blue woman looked to Reagan in surprise and when their eyes met, Reagan mouthed a single word; 'go.' The woman nodded, slipping subtly from her chair and scurrying away from the scene without so much as another glance in their direction.

"I- I didn't know. If I had, I would never-"

"Your hands or your tongue," Loki interrupted and straightened upright again. "Which would you prefer to keep?"

"Sire?"

"Chose. Quickly, or I'll take both."

"M-my tongue."

Loki gazed down at him, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. He waved a hand and the air sizzled suddenly with magic.

Dredgryn whimpered in surprise as - as if against his own will - he slammed his right arm down on the ground palm facing upward. He tried to pull back but it was as if some invisible force held him firmly in place. Reagan watched, saw the way he trembled, and wondered how many women he'd made to feel exactly as helpless.

"Good," Loki said calmly. "Now, cut it off."

Dredgryn's head shot up to look at Loki with wide-eyed horror, even as his free hand reached and took hold of his blade, raising it high above his head.

"No! Please! Please!" he shrieked.

"Cut. It. Off."

A sob escaped the massive man, even as he raised the blade high in the air, poising it to strike down on his own limb. And just as he began to bring it down with alarming force, just as Dredgryn released a strangled, horrified cry, just as Reagan flinched away to spare herself the awful sight, Loki spoke once more.

"Stop," he commanded.

Dredgryn froze, the blade edge just millimetres from his flesh.

Loki moved towards him, taking his time, each step measured. He leaned in slowly, closer and closer as Dredgryn cringed away from him, and growled a single word.

"Run."

He didn't need to be told again. Frantically, Dredgryn clambered to his feet, bolting for the door as fast as his massive body could manage it, barging down anyone who stood between him and escaping Loki. His companions didn't dare move, didn't rise from their hands and knees. Loki turned back to look them over, still glowering.

"The rest of you be on your way while I'm still in a merciful mood. You won't be presented with such an opportunity again."

The tavern erupted into chaos as a great many people took the chance to go hurtling towards the nearest exit.

When Reagan turned to face him at last her expression was appropriately stunned. Loki's stomach lurched as he waited for her reaction, seconds passed that seemed to stretch on into an eternity. He sorely wanted to take her hand, to step closer to her and assure her that she was safe, but he kept his distance, praying that he hadn't scared her too much.

To his surprise, her face split into a smile.

Wow. That is some reputation you got there, she teased.

Please... Don't think less of me, his voice was gentle, so vastly different from the mask he wore for the on-lookers.

Reagan drew a step closer to him, eyeing him up and down.

Can I be honest with you?

Always.

I have never been so turned on in my entire life, she told him.

His brows shot upward in surprise. He studied her, and a slow, wolf-like grin spread across his features.

Is that so?

Any chance you're going to scare off the rest of them so that we can have this place to ourselves?

It would have been my first course of action if I'd known it was going to have this effect on you.

Loki brushed his knuckles against her jawline and grinned down at her as she leaned into his touch.

Get to it then, Silvertongue.

Oh... you're certainly going to have to call me that more often.

And much to Reagan's dismay, just as Loki leaned in closer to her and his breath fanned over her lips, the moment was interrupted by a lilting, feminine voice sounding behind him.

"Loki Odinson..."

He bristled as he straightened himself up again, all the amusement having totally drained away from his features. He hardened, everything about him grew cold. Watching such a shift him in stole Reagan's breath away slightly.

Tell her nothing, Loki reminded her quickly. Follow my lead.

She nodded.

Loki turned towards the voice, positioning himself directly in front of Reagan as if he might subtly obscure her from view. Reagan moved to peer around his shoulder to find a woman leaning casually against the doorway, arms folded over her chest. She was dressed in aged battle leathers but wore no armour. Her long hair was so blonde it rivalled silver, and she wore it in a mess of braids and leather ties, sweeping back from her face. There was grit on her, though something about her seemed strangely polished. Her gaze was fixed on Loki, one eye midnight black, the other blood-red.

"It's been some time," the woman drawled.

Reagan glanced around the tavern. If she'd thought that onlookers had seemed uneasy at Loki's presence, it was nothing compared to hers. The air hummed with tension - with fear. She could practically smell it, their desire to flee. Yet no one seemed to have the nerve to move from their seats.

"Yes, well, I do endeavour to avoid you whenever possible, Asta," Loki replied in that calm, collected manner of his that Reagan had long since broken down.

"A wise venture, indeed," Asta inclined her head. "Follow me."

She turned on the spot, not bothering to see if Loki did as instructed.

Are you sure about this? Reagan asked as she glanced up at his stern expression.

As soon as he glanced down at her he softened - it was just for a moment, but still she saw it. The tenderness in his eyes as his gaze swept her features. She felt the hum of want down the bond. The want for her. To hold her. To shield her. He gave her the ghost of a smile before his mask slipped back into place, cold, calm and unfeeling.

I'm sure.