The United States, Present Day

"You know, the Vikings invented hockey," Sindri shouted to Paloma as the crowd roared loud enough to shake the arena.

Her friend had dragged her to an NHL game in Tempe, Arizona. Sindri avoided ice and all things snowy, including hockey in the desert where frozen solids shouldn't even be a concept (unless it was ice cream). And despite the violent nature of the game, her people played it better — outside in the frozen elements, from dawn until dusk, and in only their shoes. They didn't always have the luxury of bone carved skates, making agility a necessity. It kept the body strong and the mind resilient. These pretty twenty-first century boys didn't know anything about hardship unless their wifi went unpaid.

Whether she'd ignored the factual statement or hadn't heard her friend, Paloma whooped and threw her hands in the air as player Eleven sent the puck whizzing past the goalie. He followed with a fist pump, a knee grazing the ice, and a shimmy in one smooth glide. "Woooooo! That's my boy, Stormy!"

Sindri raised an eyebrow and smirked as she dug into their bucket of popcorn wedged between them. "Stormy?"

Paloma grinned like a cat in the cream. "Oh, honey, Arizona, Jersey Eleven." She pointed at the shimmy man taking center ice. "That's Storm Ransom, darling and hotshot of the NHL. He's already scored forty-eight goals this season, and he's projected to receive this year's Hart Trophy. Oh, and he was in last year's top ten for sexiest men alive."

Sexiest man alive? Sindri resisted the urge to giggle. Beauty was fleeting and subjective, but true allure came from the heart. To be completely honest (an unfortunate trait of her condition), Storm did possess a certain appeal with his dark beard and overall physique. Not that she noticed, of course. If she'd seen one man over the past millennium, she'd seen them all. "I'll take your word for it."

"Not even a flutter in those wings I know you keep hidden?" Paloma braced an elbow on her knee while resting her chin on her hand, pouting. "One of these days, you'll eat your words and find someone who'll turn that ancient head of yours."

Wouldn't that be something? If she hadn't found her one true love by now, Sindri doubted it would happen. Loki had told her Twenty-Twenty-Three, but midnight struck the incoming new year, and all she had to show for it was a solitary night in her house with her feline familiar, Buttons. Whatever that nuisance had meant, if not the year itself, would likely forever remain a mystery.

Not wanting to dredge up negative energy yet unable to lie, Sindri smiled and said, "I've waited a thousand years for true love. What's one more day?" Or lifetime for that matter.

Her friend sighed and shook her head. "You'd think that would be more motivation to break the curse. Don't you get tired of it?"

All the time. Sindri had wasted her first century trying to master her magic and keep her secret hidden. A blessing from a normal god like Odin or even Meili — may he forever rot in the underworld — would have been an honor. Instead, she'd been caught in Loki's snare and bestowed his 'gift' she'd never asked for or wanted.

Who wanted to go near someone like her? She was bad luck waiting to happen.

"To be fair, I'm not here looking for love," Sindri said slowly, reaching once more for the popcorn. A kernel got caught between her teeth, and she dislodged it with her tongue before frowning. "You invited me, and I came. I didn't know you planned to match me with a player who probably has a girlfriend every other night and poses for the media."

Paloma stuck out her tongue. "Harsh. I didn't say you had to meet him. Just pointing out that he's hot, and maybe it's time for you to start looking again."

That wouldn't happen. The world was too obsessed with their electronics and personal affairs to care about the things in front of them. Sure, new relationships were fun, but she'd seen enough couples fizzle out the moment the euphoria wore off. Then they went back to whatever they'd been doing before that fleeting break in their lives. And in her case especially, romance failed the moment the man became too attached and wanted more. Her wings would come up sooner or later if she wasn't careful, and the last thing she wanted to explain was her immortality. The last time that had happened, that country's government tried to detain and dissect her.

With a shrug, Sindri shifted the focus on Paloma. "What about you? Shouldn't you have someone on your arm tonight instead of worrying about little ole' me?"

Paloma's musical laugh almost tinkled like tiny bells at Christmas. Her diminutive frame juxtaposed with her home team jersey large enough to be a dress was every straight man's sports dream come true. Curvy in all the right places and armed with a killer red smile to die for and thick hair tumbling down her back in waves, no one stood a chance when she entered a room. Except there was one minor caveat she too, didn't wish for people to learn. "Not tonight! I'm on duty."

Yep. Paloma was a tooth fairy for the Southwest region of the United States. And instead of going from home to home like the old school fairies, she'd chosen a hockey game.

"Wouldn't it be more efficient to chase down kids with rotted or loose teeth?" she asked, cringing at all the sugar parents pumped into their children. Case in point, the child four seats away, chomping hard on his chocolate bar with brown syrup staining his mouth.

"And miss hot men battling for dominance on ice?" Paloma cast her a mischievous grin before springing to her feet and cheering again with the crowd. When she sat down again, she said, "Okay, I know the kids are more lucrative for pixie dust production, but I'm not a senior fairy, and all the assignments are planned weeks in advance. Besides, I love sports, and you'd be amazed at how many people lose teeth at these events."

Fair enough. Far be it from Sindri to dissuade Paloma from what she enjoyed. At least she'd been born into this existence and didn't seem to begrudge her magical attributes. She almost made it sound fun.

They fell into silence after that, and Sindri scratched her forearm through her light sleeve. One of the nice things about the Arizona desert was that even when it was cold, the winters were mild enough to wear a sweater or hoodie, but never thick layers. The only drawback was the fabric against her skin when she typically spent ten months out of the year in shorts and t-shirts.

The flesh around the scar remained itchy, swelling like an allergic reaction to something. Shifting her sleeve to inspect the area while providing herself relief, she almost choked at the faint blue glow where black ink should have been.

That's never happened. Not since...

Sindri scanned the arena, seeking signs from that wayward god she'd hoped not to see again since their last visit. Things always took a turn for the bizarre when Loki decided to make an appearance, and she wanted no part in his antics. Most of the crowd was on its feet, cheering as something on the ice held their attention. Shimmy guy — er, Stormy or whatever his name was, raced toward the other team's side while expertly guiding the puck to an exposed opening between the goalie and the net.

Events unfolded in slow motion as he made his shot. Halfway through the split second it took to swing, his body jerked once as his hips twisted. To the untrained eye, one would think he'd lost his footing, but Sindri cleared her thoughts and narrowed her gaze, channeling her magic to watch his face with her eagle-eyed vision. Storm's eyes were blank, and when the stick connected to the puck, she swore they flashed once before sending the frozen vulcanized rubber flying high toward the the half boards where she and Paloma sat. Sindri had no time to react as it sailed over the glass, and the best she could do was flinch before the puck made contact with her nose.

And dang it if she didn't hear that little imp's giggle echo before she fell backward into the seats.

Word Count: 1402
Overall Word Count: 2698
First Milestone Achieved
Second Prompt Met