Loki's Mortal Gift

Part V

Sakaar's southern district was at the farthest edge of the trash ridden realm. The largest most cumbersome pieces of trash that came to Sakaar were migrated into this district, therefore it was typically the perfect place for anyone not looking to be found. It had taken two days for Loki and the duo of guards that accompanied him to reach the southern district, and another two days to locate their targets. Loki had used his sedir to disguise his appearance as well as the guards which had allowed them to move seamlessly within the district and gather the intelligence they needed without tipping anyone off.

On the fourth day, Loki and the grandmasters guards stood outside a dark, dilapidated tavern tucked away in the dampest corner of the city, where they knew their game awaited. Finding them had proved less than challenging what with the advisors mistress being known for having healing abilities. Loki had thought such a skill surely would not go missed in a place like this, and it in fact had not.

The trio moved swiftly inside and sat down at a table near the bar. After ordering a round of drinks, Loki in his disguise, had sought out the attention of one of the barmaids. He lured her into the quiet shadows of the tavern and proceeded to explain that he, a blacksmith, had recently injured his back working on a commission for the grandmaster, and was in need of a healer. "I'm just in so much pain, you see.." He had spoken low and smiled seductively at the girl, rubbing her elbow suggestively. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. She of course blushed deeply, turning her gaze away from Loki in embarrassment and said, "Actually my Lord, there may in fact be some one here who can help you. Let me go and see if she will meet with you."

And with that the little barmaid had scurried off behind a curtain, no doubt in pursuit of Loki's prey. With a mixture of relief and anxiety, Loki sat back down and waited for the maid to return. The sooner this was all over, the sooner he could return home. Return to his mortal, who for the better part of a week had been left unattended, and unguarded.  The thought of which left Loki deeply unsettled with a strange pressure in his chest he couldn't fully understand.

He had little time to focus on it as the barmaid was back again within moments, poking her head out from behind the curtain, waving them in. Behind the curtain they found a dark narrow hallway leading to a door. Beyond that door sat the fugitive couple, sitting at a table sharing what was quite obviously their supper, in a living space that was relatively large. The healer/advisers mistress rose with a smile and introduced herself as Lily, extending her hand politely as the fighter, known only as Fighter 763, remained seated eyeing them suspiciously.

The next few moments transpired quickly, and exactly how Loki had planned it out in his head. He had used his abilities to duplicate himself, confusing the delinquents, making their arrest effortless. However the exchange that began shortly thereafter was not at all what he had expected.

"Please my Lord, have mercy. Take me, but leave my beloved," Fighter 763 had pleaded to Loki, who stood before the fugitives with his hands behind his back, the two guards stood behind the man and woman, each holding a blade to their throats.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, I have strict orders you see," Loki replied dryly. He couldn't be bothered to familiarize himself with the traitors backstory, nor did he have the desire to hear their useless begging for leniency. This was business, pure and simple, but the Fighter wasn't giving up that easily.

"Please, I beg you," he practically cried out, "she is.. in a delicate state, please, I'll do anything."

Loki was growing bored of this frail display of boldness, however it did not go unnoticed to him that the guards immediately perked up to that last admission. The woman could sense it too, and shot her lover a warning glare and shook her head ever so slightly. The larger of the two guards pressed his blade firmly to the fighters throat and hissed, "Delicate state eh? And what kind of delicate state might that be?"