Chapter Text
Walking down the cobblestone streets, you pulled up the hood of your sweatshirt to shield your face from view. Feeling helpless, it was the only thing you could think to do, even though you knew you stood out like a sore thumb in the Asgardian market anyways. It didn’t matter that the difference in physical appearance between these people and humans was almost nonexistent, one look at you and they’d know you were different. Intricately braided hair and long gowns clashed against your dark leather jacket that was thrown over a ratty sweatshirt and tucked into khaki coloured cargo pants.
Your ship had crashed somewhere in the tall, mountainous coast after an engine failure and despite being dazed and half scared to death, you had recognized, even in the distance, the rainbow coloured bridge. The sight alone had almost sent you to tears, but you hadn’t shed any tears at the crash and you hadn’t been about to start then, even if you wished you could have crashed in almost any other realm.
Mercifully, you hadn’t sustained any serious injuries, but your ratty old ship was a different story. For a couple hours, you had tried in vain to fix it but deep down you had known you needed a replacement part. There was no way you could make a quick escape to get off this planet unnoticed.
You tucked your grease covered hands into your pockets as if that was the reason you couldn’t blend in with the crowd around you. Despite keeping your eyes lowered, you could feel everyone’s gaze on you. It didn’t help slow your already racing heart. Just being here put your life in danger. Having everyone stare at you only decreased your odds of making it out alive. Already that your odds were slim to begin with. Even if it hadn’t been for the fact that you weren’t welcome due to your…occupation…finding pieces for a ship as old as yours was nearly impossible. The last spare part you had found two realms ago had been almost as used as the piece you had replaced it with. The Centaurian man who had sold it to you had assured you that it would make the journey back home, but the only place it had gotten you was marooned on Asgard.
Shop vendors refused to look at you as you made your way to the other end of the market and the crowd spread to give you a wide berth. Maybe you needed to take off the hoodie. You probably looked more threatening with it hiding what you really were, which was the least threatening species in the galaxies. But you left it on, unable to part with the one false sense of security you had.
You approached what looked like a scrap metal shop, hidden away from view in a far corner, probably due to the fact that it didn’t fit in with the rest of the beautifully decorated, dainty shops. As far as you could tell, there was no one behind the wide table that showcased an array of rusty trinkets, most of them worthless, even to someone with an ancient ship. It was safe to assume that the piece you needed was behind the black, tattered cloth where the merchant probably spent most of his time. Short of jumping over the table and probably scaring whoever was there half to death, you were going to have to wait - regardless of the fact that it made you feel like a sitting duck.
A looming presence paused beside you, almost brushing your shoulder it was so close. The scent of pine and and lemon replaced the smell of engine oil that had been following you around, and you knew whoever was beside you was a man who didn’t spend much of his time tinkering with these kinds of objects. A man who didn’t belong in front of a kiosk like this one. Picking up an old radio battery and inspecting it, you hoped he would leave if you didn’t engage. Despite a fight being the last thing you wanted, your heart began to thrum in anticipation as if it knew one was coming.
“I was sent to find the unidentified threat that had crash landed in the mountains.” The voice was cool and emotionless as if telling a story he already bored of. “Imagine my dismay when I discovered that I was hunting a Midgaridan intent on shopping.”
You practically dropped the battery at the word hunting but you forced yourself to take in a deep breath and slowly put it back on the table. It didn’t matter that you still didn’t have the piece. If someone was already hunting you, you needed to leave. Now.
“I wouldn’t suggest running, if that’s what you’re thinking. I can promise you that you will not get far.” Despite the warning, he almost sounded as if he wanted you to run - wanted you to make his life a little more interesting.
Without engaging, you peered into the shop, hoping to somehow make the owner magically appear. If the stranger only wanted you gone, then all you needed was your piece and you could be off the planet in a few hours. But you knew better than to try and explain your similar goals to the stranger though. Whatever he was sent here to do after he caught you wouldn’t be anything good.
“The owner is a little busy at the moment,” he said when he noticed where your gaze was at, “I made sure of that.”
His words sent a chill down your spine. You didn’t want to think about what this stranger had done to the merchant. But if the owner wasn’t there then maybe you could hop over the table and escape through his shop. Your pounding heart felt like a million reminders a minute to get the hell out of there but you forced yourself to stop and think long enough to realize that not knowing what was on the other side of that curtain might be worse than trying to outrun him in the busy market.
You took a bounding step in the hopes to lose him, but he gripped your arm as if he had sensed what you were about to do, and spun you around to face him. “I’m sorry little Midgardian, but you can’t leave.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice as if he had been hoping for more of a challenge.
That was all right with you. You could change that. Pulling him toward you, you kneed him in the groin and, with his loosened grip, took off in the other direction. You only made it about five feet when he appeared in front of you. Whirling, you sprinted toward the small alley on the other side of the market but, once again, he blocked your path. You skidded to a stop just out of his reach and spun to find another exit but no matter where you looked, he was there, closing in until there were so many grinning images of him that they formed a circle a few feet out around you.
Your heart sunk in your chest and suddenly you realized that you had been doomed the moment you had crashed in the mountains. There was no mistaking who the Asgardian was who was hunting you. If you had thought crashing had been the worst part of your day, you were wrong. The second Prince of Asgard was much, much worse.
You crossed your arms and faked a confidence that had always come so naturally to you. It had gotten you out of terrible situations before and you were hoping that, despite the god in front of you, it would do the same here.
“The illusions are cute, Prince. How about I talk only to you instead. Make them disappear and I promise I won’t run, or hurt you.”
“Midgardian,” he clucked, “how naive of you to think you could hurt me.”
Bu the men faded until only one remained, his dark hair falling to his shoulder over a dark green and gold tunic. You stood, stunned for a moment. None of the rumours had exaggerated just how handsome the prince was. You hoped it was the only rumour that was true, but judging by the dangerous glint in his eyes, everything you had heard had to have at least some small kernel of truth in them.
You pulled off your hoodie to get a better look at the sharp cheek bones and the incredible green eyes of the predator in front of you. You hated that you weren’t repulsed by - were possibly even slightly attracted to - the person who would probably bring upon your doom. For that alone you wanted to smack him.
“You’re a woman.” He said with raised brows.
You glared back. “You don’t have to look so surprised.”
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Even if it’s pleasantly?”
“Especially then.” You growled.
He let out a little huff that may have been a laugh, “Pleasantries aside, we have other things to attend to.”
He grabbed your arm before you could even think to move and steered you down a small path you hadn’t noticed earlier. It took everything you had to comply rather than try and fight your way out, but you knew it would only make everything worse. Maybe if he suspected nothing from you, they’d let you go. But from what you could tell, the path you were on led toward the palace, and you figured nothing good awaited you there.
If you thought there had been eyes on you before, it was nothing compared to the ones boring into you now without shame. The scene you had caused meant that you were followed by whispers as he lead you down the middle of the street, parting the crowd like the red sea. No one wanted to be in his path yet everyone wanted to be close enough to see the pariah being led down the street.
You held every gaze, not daring to look down now that you weren’t hiding. Only after a few minutes of walking, people began to look away, almost frightened. You felt a smile tug at your lips but it didn’t last long. You weren’t that scary. Looking up at the prince, you saw a scowl plastered on his face, daring anyone to keep their eyes on you for longer than a second. There was a reason the crowd parted so easily; he looked like he was about to murder someone. Hopefully, that someone wasn’t you.
You tried to shrug him off as you approached the palace, if only to walk to your death with a little dignity, but he tightened his grip.
“I’m going to bruise if you keep holding on so tight.” You snarled, despite the fact that the pain in your arm was enough of a distraction to keep the nauseous fear at bay.
He probably thought you were going to try and escape, which only angered you more. If he thought you were stupid enough to try that, knowing the deadly rumours that surrounded him, he was sorely mistaken in underestimating you. The Prince was known for his cunning and his talent - a dangerous combination that you were smart enough not to cross. The only problem, was that your anger was getting in the way of you thinking clearly. Without thinking clearly, you were bound to do something incredibly stupid like yell at him or try to stab him with one of the three knives you had hidden on you before you had left your ship.
Thankfully his grip lessened before you could do any of those things.
Neither of you said anything as you made your way through the busy streets, the inevitable looming in the palace’s shadow. You refused to ask him any questions, knowing that if you did, he might get the impression that you were afraid of what was to come. And you were not afraid. Even if your palms were sweaty and your heart was racing, this wasn’t the first time death had knocked on your door. There had been closer calls on other planets and you had met much scarier things than the prince - though maybe nothing with as much attitude. You had escaped every other tough situation you had been in before now and you would get out of this one too. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. All you needed was the stupid piece and then you’d be on your merry way - hopefully in one piece.
“I’m not going to let you go.” The prince mentioned after you shoved him again when you tried to walk up the palace steps on your own.
“You’ve made that clear.”
Instead of trying to pull away from him you threw your elbow into his ribs.
He let out a small grunt but held you close and looked down at you with a smirk. It was almost more terrifying than if he would have been angry. And he barely seemed to have felt it, which only served to anger you more than it did him. Through gritted teeth, you kept walking, pulling him with you up the palace steps.
You tried your hardest to keep track of exit as you made your way through the winding halls, but the prince was now doing a good job at making sure an easy escape wouldn’t be in your cards. Blindfolding you would have been easier, but blindfolds were meant for the living. You took in a shaky breath. You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t mean anything, that it didn’t mean they were planning on killing you, but the thoughts kept echoing over and over in your mind.
Massive golden doors loomed in the distance and you approached too quickly. You wanted to drag your heels, fight and claw your way out, but no matter how many different scenarios you ran through your head, they all ended worse than the last.
Suddenly, he pulled you into a small, secluded alcove you hadn’t noticed, your bodies practically smushed together. Your heart began to hammer in your chest and you wondered if he could feel it too - if that was exactly what he wanted. This close, you couldn’t reach for any of your knives before he could summon his magic. Here, you were completely at his mercy. Once again you wondered if that was exactly what he wanted.
Looking up into those wild eyes, you knew, rumour or not, how dangerous he could be. There was nothing safer than predictability and you saw none of that in those emerald pools. You would fight whatever was coming next, even if you had no clue what that would be.
He waited until two guards walked by and their steps receded. “Do you want to live Midgardian?” His midnight voice was a silky caress, echoing through your body.
You levelled his dangerous look with a glare of your own. If he was going to kill you, he had better not give you the chance to get a shot in first. Because you’d be damn sure that if he was taking you out, you’d bring him down with you out of spite alone.
The corner of his lips twitched upward, “You’re stubborn. Good. It will serve you well.” He placed a hand on the wall beside your head, boxing you in with his arm. “A word of advice Midgardian; the meek do not survive here.”
“Why help me?” You demanded, wary of the words coming from his silver tongue, but unable to look away from those intense green eyes.
He cocked his head. “Who says I’m helping you?”
He tried to push you out but you pushed back, pinning him to the wall with your forearm to his throat. “I’m smart enough to know that answering a question with a question is no answer at all.”
He chuckled, clearly amused by your anger. “If you must know, if you survive, it will only anger dear old father, which, will not upset me in the slightest.”
You mulled over his words, “And if I die instead?”
He shrugged and tilted his head down so that he could whisper the answer, his breath tickling your ear, “Then you die. I’ve heard it’s what you Midgardians are good at anyways.”
You jerked back, but in the tight space, it wasn’t far enough. “Then why bother with me at all?”
His lips spread into a wide, cunning grin, that let you know that he knew so much more about what was to come than you ever could know, and dragged you into the throne room to where Odin sat, residing over a hall empty of any kind of life other than guards. Everything was a dark gold you assumed might have been meant to showcase the planet’s wealth in a comforting and homely way, but you felt none of that. To you, it only seemed cold and impersonal, not unlike the man sitting on the throne.
You approached the conqueror of realms and did your best to hold your head high. After having pinned his son to the wall seconds ago, standing straight wouldn’t be hard to do in comparison. You wouldn’t bow to Odin any more than you would bow to his son, or any man for that matter.
“Father,” The prince sneered, “This is the intruder Hiemdall saw enter Asgard through the mountains.”
“This is a Midgardian.” The king stated, as if the sentence alone earned the disdain dripping in his voice.
The prince shrugged, the perfect image of insouciant boredom, “Regardless, this is who broke in.”
The king’s eye narrowed on his son in distrust, “How is that even possible?”
“This,” You interrupted before he could answer, “is person, not a thing. And she can hear, understand and speak for herself thank you very much.”
The king pursed his lips and turned his attention toward you, finally acknowledging your presence. You were pretty sure he looked at gutter rats with more affection in his eyes than he did in at you in that moment.
“Why are you here Midgardian?”
“I can assure you that I really don’t want to be. My ship’s engine malfunction and - don’t ask me how - but I landed here. I went into the city for the missing part and I’ll leave as soon as my ship is up and running. I can be gone within minutes if you’ll supply me with a new ship.” You suggested, heeding the prince’s warning and trying to be bold.
“I do not appreciate being lied to.” Odin’s booming voice took you by surprise, causing you to grit your teeth.
You looked over your words but couldn’t find anything that wasn’t the truth, “And why would I be lying? I have the bruises to prove to you that the crash wasn’t planned.”
He raised a brow as if expecting the obvious answer that for some reason you couldn’t put your finger on, looking at you in the same way your seventh grade math teacher had during algebra. If he expected a different answer as to why you were here, he wold be throughly disappointed.
Odin sighed, “Do you really think I would believe the words of an intergalactic thief?” Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the prince’s head snap towards you, staring as if seeing you for the first time. “Did you truly think I would not recognize you?”
“I was really hoping you wouldn’t. And I’m not a thief.” You corrected. “I’m an archeologist.”
A sharp exhale sounded to your right but you ignored it. Now was not the time to see what the prince found so amusing.
You had always steered clear of Asgard, knowing that, despite their cache of incredible artifacts, Heimdall was the kind of security that wasn’t worth trifling with. The London Museum was content with everything else you brought back from smaller realms and although some would say you were stealing, the pay check and official title as their Intergalactic Archeologist made it hard to feel bad about what you did. Especially when most of the people you were stealing from, had stolen it from someone else initially. Despite not being a very reputed thief, you were infamous enough to avoid Asgard and other powerful planets. Unfortunately, it seemed that avoiding them hadn’t been enough to stop the king from realizing who you were.
“Again, I don’t seem to believe you Midgardian.”
“If you let me go back to earth I can get you one of my pay checks and bring you back proof.” You tried.
He let out a cruel laugh. “Never…” But he trailed off, lost in though for a moment. “But I could use someone with a standing on Midgard like yours.”
Panic gripped you by the throat and for a second it felt as if you couldn’t breath. Being trapped here - a prisoner - was worse than death. If you thought you were desperate to get off this planet before, you had no idea what it made you now.
“What makes you think I’ve got any sort of standing on Earth?” You blurted hoping he couldn’t tell how much his words had rattled you.
“She’s right,” the prince piped up. “Just look at the way she’s dressed. No person of any sort of standing would look like that.”
You resisted the urge to throw your elbow into his ribs again if only because he was helping your case, even if it was backhanded. It didn’t matter why he said it, all that mattered was that it could mean the world for you if you played along.
But Odin ignored his son, not even bothering with a glance in his direction. “You’re known among your people for travelling the realms, am I correct?”
“Only by a few.” You answered as vaguely as possible.
“And do those few have considerable wealth and standing?”
You knew it wouldn’t be wise to lie so you grit out the word “yes.”
The answer seems to satisfy him. “Good. Then you will stay on Asgard for a mortal year, acting as an ambassador to maintain good relations between our planets.
His words sent the world spinning and you would have collapsed if the prince hadn’t been holding you up. For the first time since you had crashed, the idea that you wouldn’t actually make it out alive truly settled and suddenly, you couldn’t breath. All you could manage was a whispered, “no.”
“It would be in your best interest Midgardian.”
You kept shaking your head, unsure of what else to do, “I just need my piece and I’ll go. You won’t ever see me again I promise.”
“You will get that piece after a year of service. The matter is final.”
You didn’t know why, but you found yourself looking up to the prince for help but he kept his gaze on his father, ignoring you just as Odin did him. He wouldn’t be any help. You doubted he could even if he had wanted to - not that he did - because, even if there weren’t many people who outranked him, his father was one of the few that did.
“You can’t do this.” You practically pleaded, hating how weak the words made you sound.
“You’ll see that I can.” The anger in Odin’s voice snapped you out of your bubbling panic, replacing it with anger.
You stood up straighter, no longer relying on the prince to hold you up. “And where’s my guarantee that you’ll keep up your end of the bargain?”
Odin glared, the look ferocious. “There will but none. You agree because death is your only other option.”
“You can’t kill me.” You snarled, but as soon as the words left your mouth you heard how untrue they were, even if by law, they were.
“A known thief was trespassing and was most likely attempting to steal priceless artifacts, using a false crash landing as cover for her crimes. No one would fault me for executing you. You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do.” He roared, the words resonating through the room as a clear warning to everyone in attendance. “If I chose to kill you, then I will do as I please.”
The prince’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on your arm and you clenched your jaw to keep from saying anything else. It wouldn’t be easy, but a year of service meant that you could still manage to find a spare part sooner, and you could make an early escape. All you needed to do was be cautious and bide your time. You’d find a way out. You always did.
“Escort her to the dungeon until we decide what exactly to do with her. Get her out of my sight.” The king said with a wave of his hand.
The prince tried to pull you away but you shoved him off, “I can’t be a convincing ambassador if I’m locked up.” You protested.
“Guards, take her away.” The prince moved to lead you away but his father’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “Loki, stay.”
Four armoured men surrounded you and, despite how much you hated yourself for it, your eyes were drawn to the prince’s for help. His eyes met yours, unfeeling and unyielding as he watched them pull you away.
“Oh and thief.” Odin’s voice rang out loud and clear, freezing the guards for a moment. “Trust me when I say I will know if you acquire anything that could be used to repair your ship. You’ll find the penalty for any sort of transgression is death.
You clenched your fists, chipped nails digging into your palms as you followed the guards down the gold halls and into the dungeon.