Friðr ~ Loki Laufeyson

~ Chapter Two ~

Loki's POV 

Oh, the chaos roaring around the room was absolutely marvellous, and I couldn't help but relish in it. 

When my father demanded Thor take me to Midgard and live amongst the 'heroes' I challenged, I was far from pleased, but it was better than the cell I was holed up in and the methods of... therapy I underwent. 

I didn't intend to cause strife when I arrived, but it would seem my presence was enough to set the tenant's tempers ablaze. 

There was much they were unaware of. They didn't understand the reason why I invaded, that I was tortured and stripped of my free will, but it didn't matter. Even if I felt like exposing myself like that, they already thought me evil. 

And I would rather be evil than weak. 

The Tin Man had been in the middle of some stupid rant about letting psychos run free when I saw her standing at the door. 

I was captivated. 

The moment I laid eyes upon her I felt grounded, secure, and I couldn't possibly explain why because there were no words that would encapsulate the feeling. 

Her hair was matted and dirty, but beneath the grime, I could see the most breathtaking copper colour. It reminded me of home, when I wasn't imprisoned, and how the light would ricochet off the gold fixtures, casting an orange hue across the lands.

No one noticed her. 

How they didn't was completely beyond me. 

The yelling continued and I could hear Thor's thundering voice, but my gaze remained fixated on the beauty before me. 

Her eyes were green, but that didn't do them justice. They weren't just green, they were green like supple moss crawling across a fallen log. They were green of new sprouts unfurling from beneath the snow. They weren't the sharp green of an apple, they were the soft jade of peacock feathers. 

The yelling died down when hero after hero took notice of the angel. 

Tony tried to speak to her, but it was as if she couldn't hear him. 

"You've disturbed the flower..." I could hear her with perfect clarity, though I knew the others were struggling. 

It was as if everything else was silenced leaving only her whispering voice. 

"What? What flower? What are you on about, woman?" The Man of Iron asked with confusion evident in his voice, but I didn't appreciate the tone nor the laughing coming from two very human, very killable, people. 

Something was bothering her, even if she couldn't articulate it. You could see it in her quivering hands, hear it in the rapid breaths, and yet no one outside the blundering scientist seemed to care. 

"No, no- y-you've upset the space! Can't you feel it? So angry... so much hurt- m-my flower, she suffers-" Her voice trembled and her eyes glistened with tears, but the poor soul still couldn't get her thoughts out. 

And the Tin Man's hand upon her shoulder didn't help, flinching as if she had been burnt, and I couldn't help but take an involuntary step forward only to be yanked back into place by my brother, who gave me a quizzical look. 

My expression remained stony, but inside I was as fluid as water. 

"You have to understand- the balance, it-it's no good... rotten to the core, spoiled," She was muttering, walking further into the room with hands buried deep in her hair, tugging from the roots.