Loki let go.

Thor's cry of, "No!" faded quickly as he tumbled into the Bifrost. He was falling for a few seconds and yet it was an eternity. Strange colours and lights surrounded him - it was like being inside the "Northern Lights" of Midgard with no land in sight. He found himself, despite the circumstances, enjoying the beauty.

Except suddenly there was land in sight after all, and it was approaching very, very fast.

*

Ystella scanned the contents of her fridge. Enough for a day, two tops, and then she would have to visit town.

She was in the midst of these thoughts when a loud thump! caught her attention.

What in hell?

She opened the door.

*

Loki got to his feet, groaning. He'd probably broken something, and he ran a mental injury check. Broken rib, and ow! arm.

Preoccupied by this, he only just noticed the girl. He looked at her, baffled. Medium height, long brown hair, eyes that were either grey or green but he couldn't quite tell. Beautiful, or as beautiful as a filthy mortal could be anyway. He considered his last statement. A mortal. That made this place Midgard.

*

"Did you just fall from the sky?"

  It was the only thing she could think of to say. This place was about as isolated as it got. When a guy appears with a crashing sound - a really attractive guy - it was the logical answer.

  "Of course I did, you idiot mortal," he hissed, making her take a nervous step back. He struggled to get to his feet, wincing.

  "Y-you're injured," she said uncertainly. "Should I take you to a hospital?"

  "A what?"

  She looked at him, bewildered. He was wearing strange clothes, somewhere between sci-fi and fantasy armour, in green, gold and black. Maybe he was from a convention or re-enactment of some kind. Which didn't explain why he had fallen from the sky. "You know, where they have doctors. To heal people."

  The strange man huffed. "I don't need mortal healers." He raised a hand over his wounds, first his arm, and then his rib. She gasped as wide green light appeared in his palm as he did so.

  "How did you do that?!"

  For the first time, he grinned up at her. A flash of genuine playfulness as he got up and brushed the dirt off his weird clothes. "Magic, mortal."

  She wanted to tell him to stop calling her that, but didn't dare. It wasn't just her timid nature; she got a strange feeling about him. As if he was dangerous. "Who are you?"

"My name is Loki of Asgard, and I am... How should I put it... Burdened with glorious purpose." He flashed her another grin, this time a darker one, an evil one. "And you, mortal?"

"Ystella. Pronounced ee-stell-ah, spelt YSTELLA." She always introduced herself with that, so her weird name wasn't mispronounced, or worse, spelt Estella. She hated that.

For once, someone accepted her name without questions, just a nod. "Well, then, I..." He paused with the sudden air of someone who has just forgotten what they were about to say.

"If you've nothing better to do, I'm about to start making dinner," she said softly, nervously. It wasn't her fault she was shy, as timid as a fish, always ready to dart away in a flash of colour. But curiosity made her want the strange man to stay. The man who fell from the sky like a fallen angel.

He cocked his head. "And why should I want to eat mortal food?"

"Where else are you getting food?" This wasn't like her at all. One more objection, and she'd be gone.

He chuckled. A strange laugh, with a darker side perhaps, but it made her want to hear it again. "Very well, then, mortal."