The Warling

Chapter Three

AN: Unedited links in the comments.

Chapter Three

“You know, Mira, if you would come for drinks one evening, I’m sure we could get you out of this little cubicle.” Her boss was currently running his hand up and down her arm and when he got no resistance, over her shoulder, then down her back until finally, he rubbed her arse.

Mira didn’t react, she didn’t even feel the pervert’s touch.

“Loki,” she whispered, stepping closer to the television.

The footage was poor, shot over a distance and in a war torn New York, but she would know Loki anywhere. She hadn’t seen any footage, but now she realised that it must have been Loki in Germany too. He had been only a two hour flight away from her, and she hadn’t known.

He was literally the man of her dreams, except he was real. And he was here.

Her skirt was being inched up now as her boss tried to better feel her up. She might as well have been carved from marble for all she felt.

How was he here? And if he was real, were her dreams real too? And if they were, why the hell was she a human on Earth, and not a Vanir. And she knew she was human, she had suffered too many paper cuts in her life to be a God.

Her boss pressed on her shoulders and she bent forward, resting her hands on the table in front of the television, she didn’t object because it put her face closer to the screen.

“Loki, what are you doing?” she asked softly. Next she saw Thor and another gasp escaped her; he was exactly like in her dreams too!

What the fuck was going on today? Was her life a lie? If so, which one? This one on earth, or the one she dreamed about each night?

Her boss had worked his hand into her panties now and as his pudgy fingers separated her folds, she came back to herself.

“That’s his!” she cried, turning around and in three blows, she sent her boss to the floor with a bloody nose. “How dare you touch what belongs to Prince Loki!”

“Why you teasing little bitch! How dare you­” as he flailed around for a handkerchief, the ambassador no longer seemed so scary.

“How dare you!” she yelled back. “You are a worse than pond scum and I am going to tell everyone who will listen what a harassing, sexist, small dicked wanker you are!”

“You’re fired!”

“I quit.” With one last kick to his groin, she stormed out of the office, pushing past the crowd that had gathered in the doorway to watch.

“Call the police! Someone call me an ambulance.”

Mira walked out of the Embassy and hailed a cab to her apartment, needing her passport. She didn’t bother to pack anything, but as she flew to America she had nothing but time on her hands: time to contemplate this new reality.

Loki was real, Thor was real, and despite never having taken a self­defence course in her life, she had just felled a man who was a foot taller than her, in three moves.

There was only one conclusion. Her life was a lie. Mira was a lie. She was Nerthus. She was Little Dove. She was Loki’s lover.

Loki was attacking Earth and killing innocent people.

‘Oh Loki, what happened to you?’ she wondered.

***

“Can you move from one location to another using magic?” Nerthus asked. She was trying to determine the limits of Loki’s magic.