Torches flickered in metal holders set in the walls. The hallowed royal halls of the Asgard palace was empty for the night, with both King and Queen having retired to their bedchambers.

Two sentries stood watch at the main entrance. No one was to enter the royal halls at night.

Or so the rules went.

For a lone figure stood on the dias, fingers brushing the golden throne. Like all Einherjar, he was well-built and well-muscled, a result of intensive hours of training. It was a running joke among the Einherjar that a true man was one whose armour is too small to accomodate his muscles.

Herrick turned as a similar brutish warrior strode down the hall, his steel sword clinking against his armour.

"You called, Commander?"

Herrick frowned at the warrior's full weapons belt.

"Why do you bring in weapons of war?" he asked, not answering the question. "The royal halls of Asgard is the home of peace."

The warrior bowed his head low. "My apologies Commander. Your message was one of urgency so I simply hurried over......."

Herrick nodded dismissively.

"No matter. There are far more pressing issues at hand." Herrick paced on the dias. "You have heard of the exile of the criminal Loki Laufeyson? What are your thoughts?"

The warrior - Esbern was his name - hesitated. The exile was a royal order, and the criminal a prince. It would be unwise to question the king's judgement. Yet it was clear his Commander was doing so.

"In my humble opinion," Esbern finally said, "the criminal committed heinous crimes that should have brought him straight to the executioner's axe. However the King has spoken and the punishment has been meted out......"

"Punishment? One month in Midgard is no punishment! He is not deserving of such leniency!"

Herrick's voice thundered in a sudden yell that echoed around the halls. Esbern remained wisely silent.

Herrick seethed, struggling to keep his emotions in check. After a long pause he turned to the crouching warrior.

"The King has given his punishment, but the people have not." His voice was dipped in ice.

"Commander.....?"

"Tell me Esbern. Does your family agree to such skewed judgment? Do your friends not protest? Do your neighbours not cry out in outrage?"

".......Many of them feel that the King's punishment was unjust, yes."

"And that is because it is," Herrick shot back. "Which is why we, the Einherjar, shall deliver true justice."

Herrick looked down at Esbern. Grim determination colored his voice.

"Prepare a small army of men. I have a mission for you in Midgard."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A runaway ray of sunlight burrowed persistently underneath Kyra's eyelids. Her eyebrows knitted together and she turned. Yawning, she flipped her body over to the other side.

She could feel warmth radiating from somewhere near. It was a pleasant cozy feeling, and she snuggled up to its source happily.

Mmm. Very warm. Nice.

Then - wait. Is it moving?

Her eyes flew open. She didn't have her glasses on, so her world was heavily pixelated and blurred. But she could see that she was pressed up against something warm, that was rising and falling slowly underneath her fingers.

She looked up.

And her eyes widened into dinner plates.

She was staring up at the perfectly chiselled jawbone of a sleeping Loki.

Which meant this moving thing under her fingers........was Loki's bare chest.

Which meant......she was sleeping with a half-naked man - god - in her bed!

She opened her mouth and screamed.

"What the hell are you doing in my house? Why are you sleeping with me in my bed?" She kicked and slapped and punched vicously, her brain focused on only getting rid of the intruder.

"Get out you psycho! And why in Christ's sake are you half naked?"

Rudely awakened, Loki swore. He regained his senses soon enough.

"Woman! Calm yourself!"

"You are naked! In my bed!"

Loki's sharp eyes assessed the situation. He let her attacks continue for a few moments before swiftly snapping out his hands, gripping both of her arms in vice-like grips, effectively halting the violence.

"Is this how all Midgard women are like?" Loki asked coldly. "They trick men to their beds then plead innocence and assault the next morn?"

Kyra gaped. "What?"

~ The previous night ~
"Loki Laufeyson, Asgardian God of Mischief, is my boyfriend!"

Loki threw the girl a suspicious look. He had no idea what a "boyfriend" was, and the faces of these other mortals were a mixed bag of reactions. Two were beaming, one looked stunned and the other awkward. The golden-haired maiden wore an aghast expression.

Boy. Friend. Two familiar words combined into one new entity. Perhaps it meant a male friend? Though he had always thought the word "friend" did not take into account gender.

But then again he wouldn't know. His friends were little to none.

It was at this point that the girl threw up on him. Unfortunately this was something he knew all too well.

Livid and disgusted, Loki recoiled. The girl had veered halfway into unconsciousness however, and her dead weight kept her slumped against him. He made to push her away, roughly, but then one of the watching mortals spoke.

"Perhaps you should take her home. She looks like she needs some rest." The person who spoke seemed to be the eldest there, and Loki wondered if this was the all-powerful Richard. He certainly didn't look like much.

"I'll call a taxi!" someone said and dashed off.

The golden-haired maiden peered at Loki with aqua blue eyes that spoke of suspicion.

"Are you......really her boyfriend?"

Again with the foreign word. Loki did not understand, but that was what the drunk mortal had called him, so perhaps it was a Midgard term for master? In the end he simply said,

"I do as she wishes." The maiden gaped.

Something yellow pulled up near by. Loki had seen this before. It was the mortals' form of transport. What was that word? Ah. "Car".

Someone opened the car door and looked at him expectantly. Loki managed to drag the mortal across the grass with minimal touch, all the while wrinkling his nose at both the overpowering stenches of alcohol and vomit.

He dumped her unceremoniously into the yellow carriage-on-wheels before entering himself. He loathed the idea of sharing a space with a drunkard, but then again he was bounded.

The girl managed to blurt out a comprehensible address, and the driver seemed to know where he was going, so Loki focused on breathing as little as possible and as far as possible.

The driver up front looked at him through the rearview mirror.

"Ooh mister. Ya got puke all over ya fancy costume! That a rental?"

Loki had the vague impression he was asking a question, but since he didn't understand the words he ignored him. Besides it wasn't him that he was bounded to.

The driver went on, oblivous.

"Lots of people dressing up as Loki this time around eh? Real popular character ever since that Thor movie came out ain't it?"

Loki frowned. These were familiar words wrapped by unfamiliar terms.

"What do you mean, mortal? I am the one and only Loki!"

The driver snorted. "Yeah sure. Take a look outta window buddy."

Loki looked.

And he saw them, the dozen of Lokis parading the streets, the two Thors - one of them was a female no less - chatting at the corner, and one Odin posing for a photo.

Shocked, Loki was speechless for a moment.

"Blasphemy! What impostors! They dare pretend to be Asgardians?" he roared. "This is sacrilege!"

The driver looked startled. An alarmed look came into his eyes as he wandered if he was dealing with a psycho. He decided to keep quiet for the remainder of the journey.

The drunken answers of the mortal helped him find the way to her house. It was on the sixteenth floor of what the mortals called an "apartment". To Loki it was one tall, gigantic house with hundreds of rooms, shared among strangers.

It annoyed him how the mortal giggled so much. And the singing. He had never heard Midgard music before, but if this was what it was like then it was a wonder how Midgard mortals still kept their hearing.

Keys from the mortal's bag unlocked the door. The apartment was moderately furnished. No palace luxuries here.

Still, Loki thought, anything was better than a dungeon.

He left the girl mumbling nonsense on the couch and went to attend to his garments. The leather cloak was unstained, thank Bor, but his tunic underneath was wretched.

He peeled it over his head, gagging at the stink. Looking around, he saw a tall basket of clothes. He sniffed at it and made a face. So this was where soiled garments went. He tossed his tunic in.

There was noise from the living area. The mortal was stumbling around and yelling something about a bed. More opening of doors soon showed him where the bed was.

He guided her over to it, and she slumped down on the edge with a thump. The blue plastic squares she wore on the bridge of her nose was taken off and handed to Loki. Loki tilted his head.

"Glassssesssss.....On table. Pleassse." She pointed. Loki took the blue squares gingerly and placed them on the bedside table.

He made to leave, but she lunged out and grabbed his arm.

"Where do you think you're going? You're my boyfriend! My genie! You - stay!"

She gave a vicious tug and he lost balance, tripped over the foot of the bed and fell backwards onto the soft cotton sheets.

The mortal fell backwards too, and landed beside him with a satisfying thump.

"Mmmm," she murmured, and snuggled up close.

Physical proximity with anyone was something Loki wasn't accustomed to. He tried to inch away, but the mortal felt every movement and clung to him like a stubborn limpet.

"Don't move!" she commanded blearily. "That's an order from your master......."

Loki watched as her breathing gradually slowed and hushed. Her russet hair was soft against his skin, and a peaceful smile tinged her lips. A strand of hair fell across her eyes and without thought Loki reached to tuck it back behind her ear.

Was it just her or were all Midgard mortals this.......amusingly clumsy? It was like watching a young cub pouncing on a butterfly. It was........entertaining.

He hadn't thought he would get much rest, but in the end unconsciousness came easily. Sometime in the middle of the night he shifted in his sleep, and unknowingly his left hand came into contact with the mortal's, their fingers curling around the tentative touch.