Silhouette // LokixOC

CHAPTER IV

"WELL I WOKE UP TODAY AND THE WORLD WAS A RESTLESS PLACE" ~ SONG FOR TEN BY MURRAY GOLD & NEIL HANNON

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What's up bitches? we finally meet the queen of this fic in this chapter! get ready for badass and lots of smartass remarks (though there will be more in the next chapters). Alsoooo.... i started broadchurch thats the series i was talking about in the announcement so maybe smn will be clever and look here for the answer. I love DI Alec Hardy.  Maybe ill write a fic? Allons-y! (and a special answer that fit from broadchurch: on earth we say: "good morning")  

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At first, he didn't even care what happened, where he was or who the bloody fuck was this woman, because he was throwing up behind a rock. What did she do? When he managed to stop, he heard an amused voice from behind him.

"Yeah, that's normal after the first time."

His dizzy head cleared a bit and shot up as quickly as it could without throwing up again. His eyes started scanning his surroundings. Ice, snow, ice, rocks, did he mentioned ice? He noticed that even though it was dark, the stars gave just the right amount of light to see clearly. Also he felt lots of cold magical energy, similar to the one radiating from the woman standing behind him. Niflheim. Why didn't he think of it? He slowly got up from his knees and equally slowly turned around. The Vanaheim singer, still in her dress, was standing in the snow.

"Who...are...you?" He rasped, his throat sore.

"Oh, I have many names but I think you already figured out one of them." She said in a light tone.

He thought for a second. The only trace of an idea he had was... Impossible! It was just a fairy tale, a story to scare small children!

"Impossible." He stated. She raised her eyebrow.

"Well, I feel quite possible." She stamped her foot. A wave of milky white ice shot out from the place it hit and started to spread quickly in every direction, creating a beautiful, ornamented platform under them, about twenty feet in diameter. His eyes went wide.

"Is Dronning... the Ice Queen..." He whispered in awe.

"Outstanding! Fantastic!" She praised him slightly sarcastically. "That's one of my names. I have lots of them. Walking Death, Fate... Some call me Skadi, I never been married, though." Loki was speechless, a rare view. The woman continued to list her names. "I was also called Morana by the Slavic. The Reaper, too. My favourite one is Khione, though.

"Dare to say something? I know it might be a shock, but you kinda never shut up for so long!"

"Sorry for my temporary inconvenience. I'm back now." He sassed, his voice still a little croaky. "Would you be so nice and show me your real face?"

"You're rather good." Khione praised him, slightly impressed, though not surprised as he hoped she would be.

"I thought you knew, since you know so much about me." Loki snorted. He was starting to be geniuinely amused by this conversation, he noted with surprise. An effect of a long-time absence of someone sassing him back, probably.

Khione rolled her eyes. If only he knew. A dark fog started to swirl around her, closing her in an eye of her own little storm. The already low temperature dropped a couple degrees more and only a dramatic sweep of the wind would be needed to make it more dramatic. After a few seconds, a totally different woman walked out of it, a dark light beaming from her, never mind how much of a paradox it was. Loki's jaw dropped. The woman had shoulder-length, unruly, raven-black, wavy hair, half of it held back by a silver comb. Her skin was almost white, and her high cheekbones so sharp that it didn't look healthy. She had full, pink lips and the most incredible eyes he has ever seen. They shone like two moons, their glow iluminating her whole face and standing out from the dim surroundings. They had no pupil, but it didn't look creepy. It looked stunning. Khione was also very tall, almost as tall as him, and somehow muscular. Not in a weird way, but like a gymnast. She looked starved, though, he noticed with a pang of surprise. She also looked very young, approximately 20 midgardian years, though she was much, much older for sure. She wore a graphite grey armoured corset, embellished with silver leaves, and a black cape, ragged at the end. Her black leggins were made from a jeans-like material with a high waist and she was wearing black combat boots with metal tips. On her arms and knees there were pieces of black and silver armour that looked like they were made from scales of a large animal. What did she do, pluck Jormungand? They were carved in silver flames. She also wore black, wrist-length, leather gloves without fingers and black war paint that looked like she cried with black tears or her mascara got smeared in rain. He also noticed a thin chain on her neck but he didn't see what was attached to it. Loki fell silent for the second time in the last five minutes, which Khione thought was a millenial record, not counting sleeping, obviously. When Loki was putting himself together, Khione put out the light (darkness?) surrounding her. He cleared his throat and looked a little, tiny bit intimidated, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry, I like to be a little dramatic sometimes... I hadn't so much fun for centuries!" Khione laughed.

"Okay, now that I know how you look like, I'd like to get to the subject for why I'm here." Loki said more seriously, to cover up his faux paux.

"Oh dear, I know exactly why are you here and you can tell Odin he won't get me even with all his army raiding my house." She said circling Loki like he was a piece of prey. The white ice she made earlier blackened as her feet hit the ground around him. As soon as her foot lost contact, it was white again.

"How... Okay, doesn't matter but why are you so sure? I'm not my father's army." He said sounding self-confident. It was a lie, though. Never during his life, he had met someone with such power radiating of them. He was really fighting to stay focused, not to be overwhelmed by the raw magic pumping through the air between them.

He looked slightly startled when he heard Khione laughing.

"Oh, darling... I could have killed you a hundred times already!" He decided to keep his fake confident façade up, and maybe it wasn't entirely clever (it wasn't at all), because he knew Khione had an enormous advantage, but it gave him time.

"I don't think you realise, that I'm the most skilled magician on Asgard. You really underestimate me."

"Yeah, and I'm one of the maybe five most powerful beings in the universe. Don't make yourself sound stupid, 'cause you're not.. I'm older, better trained, you're on my ground, I know everything about what you can't and what you can. By the way, Asgard has really crappy teachers. Furthermore, you don't know anything about me except for the tiny bit of information from stories for children. Use your brain! I know you have it. You can't win."

Loki knew all the legends she was talking about, but he also knew that people usually enlarged what they actually saw and those stories lived on for centuries. Still, he saw how powerful she was, he felt her power, even now. It was pulsing between them, clashing with his own magic and trying to suffocate him from all sides, fuelled by Niflheim. But he couldn't back off. He had to prove his Father wrong. Maybe he won't humiliate himself completely.

"You wanna bet?" He asked after a few seconds. Khione looked amused. Still not surprised, though.

"No... because its no fun to bet with someone, if you're a hundred percent sure you'll win." She said with a smile but her eyes glinted dangerously.

"You're being overconfident." Loki commented, though he was a little less sure about the idea of fighting her. Not enough to back away, though.

"We'll see."

Loki just wanted to make a sassy comment about her being unarmed (he had a reputation to maintain after all), but he didn't make it on time. Khione moved so fast that a regular person wouldn't register what she did. He, however, noticed her slapping a thin bracelet on her wrist which immediately expanded to a double scythe. It was silver and black, carved in flames and crystals and had a small, amethyst skull at the base of each blade . The blades were made of something that looked like ice, but he guessed it was far more deadly.

"Now, you know why they call me the Reaper," Khione said nonchalantly, swirling the deadly weapon around.

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So, 1300 words! you like khione?