Slave of Fate

Shopping

Slave of Fate

Chapter Two

Loki stared up at the ceiling of the room, blank eyes not truly seeing. Another month, another master, each worst than the last. And this one was bound to be the worst. Chosen by Heimdal? /Heimdal?!/ The man hated him with a burning passion, there was not a chance in Helheim he would be better off here.

And that girl - who was she? /What/ was she? The words she had spoken to the warriors had power behind them, that was certain. Not to mention the fact that she had promised to "fix him." He was broken, yes, but could he not stay that way? Would it not be a mercy to let him stay empty and hollow, rather than fearful and in constant agony?

Other masters had promised to help him, of course. Promised to never hurt him, and treat him fairly. It did not take long to prove that they were just as big of liars as the Asgardians. In fact, it had been worse with them. In the beginning, he had allowed himself to hope, to /wish,/ that they were different, but they were not, and never would be. They were worse, in the end, the burning pain followed by the sharp sting of betrayal.

Sighing, Loki slowly sat up in the bed, observing the room he was staying in - only temporarily, he was sure. It was much too /nice/ for a /slave./ Emerald carpet was set off by cerulean walls and an indigo ceiling with what appeared to be Midgardian constellations drawn on them in sparkly, white paint. The bed was undoubtedly the best he had slept on in several years, soft with creamy sheets and jade comforter. Mahogany and oak furniture was littered sporadically throughout the room, the most eye-catching one being a large writing desk that, no doubt, had several hidden compartments. It was ironic, really. This had been the bedroom he had always wished for as a Prince in Asgard, and now it was temporarily his, as a slave in Midgard. The Norns probably thought it /hilarious./

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and Loki immediately stiffened as Why walked in, a black fedora pulled low over the left half of his face as she tossed him an emerald baseball cap and black sunglasses.

"Get dressed, there should be some old clothes of a friend in the closet. We're going shopping," with that, she spun on her heel and clicked the door shut without another word.

**********

Why was leaning against the white mustang when Loki finally exited the house, wearing black jeans and a green t-shirt, revealing scarred and bruised arms. "In," she ordered, waving to the shotgun seat as she climbed behind the wheel. Loki obediently followed, not making a sound.

As soon as Why had begun driving, she turned to Loki with expectant eyes and relaxed posture, hoping to make him more at ease. "What kind of clothing do you prefer?"

***********

Loki blinked once, twice, again as he stared at the mortal in shock. No matter how elaborate the ruse, no master of his had ever actually taken him shopping. Now that he thought about it, the trickster found it oddly cliche, based on books he had read (stolen) when his masters weren't looking. Nevertheless, it was still.... nice... to own something - for him, and only him. Unless there were string attached....

"What must I do on return?" he questioned, watching Why warily from the corner of his eye. The girl simply sighed and thumped her head against the car wheel, making it honk loudly as she jumped in shock and fright.

"Holy cheese nuggets I need to stop doing that!" she cried, watching the wheel in what appeared to be terror. Loki couldn't help but wonder, once again, just who is new owner was..... "Anyway," she stated, calming herself with a deep breath and turning to look Loki in the eyes. "You do not have to do anything in return - for /you/, I will not take favors. For other people, oh heck yes. But for you? I /seriously/ owe you, so I'm gonna have to be working to get even."

"How.. do /you/ owe /me/?" questioned Loki incredulously. He was the /slave/. What kind of crazy Midgardian didn't understand that?

"Well, since Mr. Crazy-all-seeing-Ken-doll up there in Asgard apparently said you have to be my slave, I have to make that up to you." Okay, apparently /this/ Midgardian did not understand slavery. At. All.

"You're insane," muttered Loki before freezing as he saw the girl's eyes widen at his words. How /stupid/ could he be? He had /never/ slipped up so terribly before! How would this Midgardian see fit to punish him? Knives, whips, belts, brands, isolation, no food or water, what? All of the above, most likely.

"You're right, I am," interrupted Why, bringing Loki out of his thoughts. "Completely, totally, irrevocably, INSANE. Which, if you ask me, is a good thing." Loki could have cried with relief. He wasn't to be punished for this mistake, at least. "Aaaand we're here!" she cried, flinging open the car doors and racing up to the front of the store and eagerly beginning to converse with a man in a crimson top, blue jeans, baseball cap, and black sunglasses. Loki's eyes widened as he took in the building. He assumed they would be going to Target or something, buy him a cheap pair of t-shirts and jeans before leaving again... not tailored suits and ties and... wait, was that an Amarni replica of HIS outfit from Stuttgart? For real?

"Hey, Lo, come over here!" called Why, waving at him. The trickster cautiously moved towards her, slightly annoyed but mostly just creeped out by the nickname. Some of his worst owners had given him "pet names," as they had said.

Turning, Loki's eyes widened as he took in the friend Why had been talking to, and the glowing blue circle barely visible in the center if his chest.

"Wassup, Reindeer Games? Been awhile."