This story will have two chapters in total.

If you pay attention, the writing style slowly changes as well the longer you read. At the start it is very detailed and almost poetic; as Loki sheds his regal and arrogant personality, the style changes into something lighter and more trademark to what I do.

I hope you enjoy this story, I wrote it in under 12 hours and absolutely adore this plot.

Loki Laufeyson was many things, a thief, a prince, a king.

But for now, settled on the floor of an abandoned building far from civilization, he was simply tired.

He was exhausted of running, pausing for however long until the vicious fangs of whomever snapped at his backside and left him fleeing once more.

It was here in the abandoned building, nestled deep in the rolling hills and sparse forests did he find refuge, even if temporary.

The room smelled of clay and soil, pressed between the floorboards until they too became part of the wood itself. The walls were shrouded with the dimly glow of twilights, illuminating white with speckles of orange and sun fire.

Loki's bones ached and his Seidr churned deep in his core. The clasps of his armor and mail pressed against his skin, searing his flesh from the longing flames of Surtur's aggression. Hours past, his metal still burned hotly against his flushed and fevered skin.

Hiding on Midgard, however unsettling and insulting it was, would delay the pursuit to flay the skin from his limbs.

He sent his Seidr out, clicking through the air itself to determine if any fool or warrior had followed his dives between the curtains of reality.

Sensing none except the feeble light of a wayward hound, he permitted his body to relax against the bleak wall of the Midgardian residence.

It would suit him for a temporary hide until he recovered his strength and could continue on as the tempting hare before the glassy eyed mutt.

The sorcerer awoke to the foreboding snort of a mindless creature dangerously close.

If Loki had hidden on any other realm, countless creatures would prove dangerous.

Awaking on Midgard to the sight of a haggard canine staring at him happily only personified his disdain and fall from grace.

"Be gone!" He hissed sourly, raising his hand in threat. The creature flinched, lowering its head to sniffle against the aged floorboards.

Loki's lip curled, eying the wretched flea bitten mutt as little more than the filth it wore.

The dog let out a small whine, displeased and longing for comfort.

It had dark eyes, deep and rich like the finest pastries Asgard once offered him.

Loki's Seidr hummed under his skin, warming his chilled flesh and teasing the air around him. He rose, movement graceful as the dog lowered itself to crawl across on its belly.

It whimpered once again, face matted with mud as sunlight shone on its aged muzzle and yellowed teeth.

"Pathetic," Loki sneered, twisting the air itself to slide between the velvet curtains into the darkened pathways none walked but he.

Loki returned to the same house in the middle of open land and sparse trees, expecting his arrival to be silent and unknown.

He started in partial surprise and obvious revulsion. He took two steps backwards, his dragon hide boots sounding on the floor.

The dog looked up from where it rested its aged chin on weathered paws. Its nails broken and misshapen, pads cracked and bleeding.

Its tail thumped on the floor, only faintly discernible by starlight.

"Why?" Loki growled out, eyes sharp and hands trembling in the air, "Why are you still here?"

The dog didn't rise to its feet, although it watched contently as if Loki's appearance had fulfilled all its desires.

The dog was a fool, if it could find such pleasure in the appearance of one unknown. For all it knew, Loki's biting words would be mirrored with a wicked hit, a retort or cruel smile emphasized by jabs and wounds.

It had been nearly a fortnight, near an entire cycle of the Midgardian moon and yet the creature waited in the only room where Loki had been. Its paws worn from wandering and returning with hopes to see Loki once more.

How far had it walked, only to return here? How long would it have waited to see Loki once more, even if he was only to grant it abuse and anger?

How did it yearn for affection and warming touch?

Loki's lip curled and he walked into the room, observing the dog on the floor considering.

He rolled his jaw, sliding his tongue behind his teeth as words were forged through fire and silver itself.

"Why are you here?" He spoke, hearing the hiss of the smelter burning and something new from nothing.

The dog's head jolted upwards, tilting obscenely to the side as it puzzled over the new information.

"You back," It chuffed, opening its mouth in a friendly grin, revealing a rotten tooth and soured breath. "I waited."

Loki's nostrils flared, his silver tongue worked once more to craft language to those without, "You had no notion of when I would return."

The dog blinked contently, "I always wait for friend come back."

Loki felt aggression and envy rear and taint his mind sourly, "And when they don't?"

The dog lowered its head on its paws, "I hope. Wait for you."

"What," Loki laughed, the sound was biting in the silence of the night, "Your previous master grew ill of your misguided loyalty?"

"No," The dog was patient, "They sleep. I wait for you now."

Loki scowled, "Then I shall return far past your pathetic life, and laugh upon the bones of your devotion."

"Okay," The dog agreed pleasantly, "I will wait always. And be here when you come back."

Loki resisted the urge to hit something, "You will be a corpse of your own illogical obedience."

"Sleep and wait for you." The dog countered, "None wait for you now."

Loki paused as if struck, "What? What did you dare say, you pathetic mongrel?"

The dog's ears lowered sadly, "None wait for you now. So I wait. And I'll sleep and wait. Now one waits."

Loki's lip twitched as the horrid tide of sorrow engulfed his body. It tugged and pulled, trapping him in a riptide of anger at the words.

Golden hair shining like Vanir straw. Tanned skin and weathered hands from work- a temper and mind sharpened like summer's blaze across unsuspecting workers.

Gentle and swift like the elder mare, more noble than the fine bred stallions of Loki's Fat- Odin's stables.

"I don't know when I'll be back." He had once said, before the stars themselves crashed and left suffocation and famine.

"That is alright," She had said, departing words as sweet as stolen honey, "I'll always wait for you,"

The cosmos swirled as the Norns drew water from the well, and sprinkled it throughout the faces of the Vanir and the shadowed Prince himself. Urdr laughed as time defied her final words, and granted her passage to land beyond Loki's travels.

He could ascend the branches of Yggdrasil, through the ripples of reality itself. Yet even he could not sway Hela's grasp on the souls of those undead.

"Sigyn," Loki spoke abruptly, his voice as cold as Jotunheimr's frost, "You shall carry her name as a token of royalty and a prestigious honor."

The dog tilted its head, eyes warm as her own had once been, "Okay," it barked contently, "I always wait for you."

Sigyn was starving, her ribs pronounced like the knucklebones of Loki's hand. She ate hungrily, lapping at the provided food with trust he could not fathom.

She drank thirstily from a puddle under a broken eave. Her maw was caked with grime and filth- he rid her of the mangy clumps with the sharpened blade of his knife.

She never moved against the gentle caress of metal to her skin.

Loki entertained the notion of splitting hide with tempered weaponry- to rid her of her suffering and allow Hela to take her spirit gently in embrace. She shook when she stood, weakened legs and bleeding paws, it would be a mercy.

His hand did not sway as he gently removed the tangled fur around her neck- mats of grey and black cascading to a small pile.

"You gentle," Sigyn noted calmly, tilting her head to one side as her eyes met his, "Why so sad then?"

Loki didn't respond, instead he slid his knife back into his sheathe and observed her pelt critically.

His Seidr still hummed under his skin, throbbing like an abrasion starting to fester. It stung under his gentle prodding, souring his blood.

"Come," Loki sighed, already dreading how demeaning his next task would be. The puddle where Sigyn drank provided enough water to bathe her feet.

She walked behind him, limping and yet never complaining. The white fur between her toes was painted black, thickened by the hardened shell of gore.

"Hurt," she sniffed, tossing her head upset until she pressed it wetly to the junction of his neck and shoulder. She exhaled soundly, relaxing at the contact as he tugged at the scabs until they left her toes.

"You smell of trees," She barked, the sound was loud and wet in his ear, "Chopped, kept inside."

Loki had no notion of what tree she was speaking of, although she didn't say more.

He conjured bandages, hidden in the paradoxical cavern he alone could access. The gauze had been boiled and cured, clean despite its many stains.

She didn't protest, offering each paw until each limb was adorned with a thick bandage like winter stockings.

"Sleep?" She asked hopefully, peering at the empty house and at her feet, debating how she could make such a trek.

He sighed, hefting one arm around her side to hoist her into the air. She exhaled hurriedly as her lungs were compressed; each rib Loki felt prod him even through his armor.

He had enough salted boar in his inventory to satisfy even her ravenous hunger.

She tucked her nose under her poorly trimmed tail, humming contently until moonlight illuminated her pelt and kissed her skin with the ethereal beauty of Valkyries.

Sigyn barked a greeting the next time he appeared in the home. Her tail swished through the air boldly, her fur a strange assortment of curls and knots from where he had shaven her.

"Hello!" She wriggled excitedly, "Miss you!"

Loki stopped at that, it was an obscure sensation deep in his chest.

"I brought you food," Loki grunted sourly, "Until you can hunt for yourself, dog."

Sigyn investigated the leather bag, sniffing intently at the inner contents, "You?"

"No, that's yours." Loki sighed, feeling the early stirrings of pain inside his skull.

"I know," The dog huffed, "I share. You eat too!"

Loki paused and frowned, "No. It was only a small stop, I have places to go. You know where water is."

"Yes," Sigyn agreed happily, "Miss you!"

Loki didn't at all feel bad about leaving once more.

The next time Loki visited, he brought a pile of torn blankets. Mounded together with twine, they were suitable for a hound to sleep on deep in the stables of Asgard. Loki was anticipating Sigyn's protests, or her whining against the comfort of the blankets themselves.

She instead cheered happily, curling on the pile with the grace and gentleness of a kindred heart, and enthused to tell him about his venture.

The next time he returned, he brought once more a sack of meats and fat. He noticed that her sides had begun to fill, disguising bone under shining grey and black fur.

Her eyes were lighter too, happier. She moaned about a trail she had found, urging him outside to run through the meadow with her.

He walked alongside her, over the game trail and near the silent creek.

In the sunlight her eyes had flecks of molten gold, the same shade as Sigyn's hair such a long time ago.

Loki's Seidr hummed and danced, slithering and flying across the air and sunlight. Cobwebs and dust melted, invisible oils danced across stained woods and restored them to their proper beauty. Broken glass and moth eaten curtains reversed like fluid until they too, were whole.

"Home! Home!" Sigyn cheered happily, running across the kitchen floors with the clumsiness of a dog on tile, "Stay now?"

Loki didn't.

Sigyn didn't mind.

Loki was struck with the whispers of the Norns, laughter as higher knowledge rooted itself in his mind.

Midgard itself, was fiercely protected. Defended by savages and monsters, a mother wolf protecting her kits from a bloodthirsty beast.

If Loki remained unseen, invisible under the eye of mortal men, he was protected and safe on Midgard.

No longer would he be running, like the lonesome drake after its next meal. He could settle, regroup and calm his center until inevitably he was drawn to war once more.

He was tired of always running, of teasing those hungry for his severed head with scant visions of his Seidr. He was tired of teetering on the line of offense or defense- never knowing when the next strike would prove lethal.

He walked into the back door of the fixed home, moving the Midgardian levers which controlled the flameless lanterns.

He heard the weary clicking of nails on the floor, approaching from the direction Loki knew the room she had claimed was located.

Sigyn stumbled in, eyes glazed with the alluring call of sleep. She blinked tiredly once, yawning a large sigh which revealed her yellowed teeth.

"Sigyn," Loki calmly announced, leaning against the food preparation counter nearest the Midgardian sink. "Have you only just awoken?"

Sigyn's ears jolted, her tail began swishing uncontrollably, knocking heavily into the walls.

"You back!" she cheered excitedly, "Missed you! Missed you!"

She always greeted him in mockery to what should have been.

"I'm back," He sighed, sniffing pointedly as he watched her wriggle in uncontrollable glee.

"Good!" She chortled happily, "When go again?"

Loki paused, taking in her molten eyes which only conveyed happiness and warmth. It had been a very long time since anyone had casted him such a look of admiration.

"I don't think I will," Loki paused tentatively, "Go. For a while at least."

Sigyn didn't bark in surprise. She didn't draw focus to the words which built such unease and discomfort in the lie smith.

"I show bed," Sigyn enthused, turning and wagging her tail in earnest, "you have bed. I floor."

"I don't need your bed," Loki clarified, shaping his face into disgust at the thought, Sigyn's tongue lolled out of her mouth at the expression.

"Very soft," Sigyn offered pointedly, now padding softly into the room. "You have if wanted!"

Loki couldn't recall a single instance of his childhood where Thor had offered Loki the luxury of his own bed, in offer of taking his place on the floor.

Into adulthood, storming bars and taverns, never had Thor offered the comfort of a bed when he himself could take it for himself.

"I don't need your bed, Sigyn," Loki's voice was softer, something foreign bubbled in his throat as he gently stroked the fur between her eyes, "I thank you for the gesture."

Sigyn's tail thumped against the mound of blankets, muffled and rhythmic.

"I fear I have naught told you all of which you are privy to hear."

Sigyn tilted her head curiously, "Okay, I know not much."

Loki almost smiled, "No, although you are permitted to know I do not hail from Midgard. I come from a land very far away."

"Okay," Sigyn blinked "You come back. Go far away but come back."

"That," Loki paused, "Is true-"

"Good!" Sigyn barked, "You come back I happy to see you. You stay, we be happy. Okay?"

It had been a long time since Loki felt the stirrings of warmth on his heart, twisting through the frigid inhospitable storm of his Seidr.

"Okay," He agreed, petting her head and cupping her jaw with both hands, "Okay, Sigyn."

Loki was free to pursuit arcane arts without drawing eye of his people or scorn from those he once called allies.

He forged rune stones, saturated deep in the rock letters and words to hide his land from eyes above. Spells woven between shards of dust and bedrock, encompassing his land a shroud of protection. He hadn't dared create such permanent glyphs, he hadn't the permission to stake a land and call it his own.

There was a sensation of glee and happiness, surpassing the stars and the very branches of Yggdrasil as he viewed his land. The violet and white wildflowers that shivered in the breeze- the white skinned trees that formed a small screen and divided open sky and open grass.

Tall grasses with unusually soft tufts swayed, displaying teasing glimpses of maroon undersides to each leaf. Loki knew that Sleipnir would have enjoyed running through the meadow.

"Home?" Sigyn asked curiously, padding alongside his thigh as he walked back towards the Midgardian house.

Loki's fingers trailed over the peeling wood- allowing his magic to slide over the flaking coating to stain and change the color of the wood itself into a rich brown, like the well cared homes of the Vanir.

He could imagine Sigyn outside, her hair drawn into a careless tie with a secondhand leather thong. She would wear a dirtied green cloth in her hair, shielding her brow and scalp from the summer's heat.

He had gifted her the cloth, woven from Asgard's finest silk and dyed with the sap of the Eldbarrow to Loki's own color. He had gifted it as a token, a namesake and a promise.

She had smiled at the nobility and at the immense value of the fabric. Then she dirtied it with dirt and livestock stains and rendered it more than scrap.

'Who is the fool, Loki? He who gifted a working-maiden woven silk, or the maiden who wore it as a usable thing?'

She would have adored Sigyn and her silken fur; she would have sung Vanir songs and plowed the grasses with grains to sell to the Aesir.

"Come!" Sigyn shouted, racing over the game path with urgency in her step, "Come!"

"What is it?" Loki asked, glancing upwards from where he had woven his Seidr into the soil and placed the seeds of herbs and grain.

"Help!" She cried, skittering to a stop with her claws furrowing the sod, "Dog help!"

"There's a dog that needs help?" Loki blinked in bafflement and confusion, "Sigyn, I am not at leisure to assist every creature that calls for aid-"

"Hurt," Sigyn whined, shifting her weight anxiously, "It hurt. Help."

"Fine," Loki snapped, swishing his arm through the air to sense the living hearts of everything within.

There was something large in the direction Sigyn had ran from, it's mind and body clouded by the acrid taint of sickness and pain.

He followed her, his stamina far beyond the lengths of mortal men. He found the creature, uttering sounds of misery and sorrow without an audience to hear the melody.

He shifted his tongue, considering the familiarity of the beast before him, "You are hurt."

It snarled angrily, tossing its head through the fever of pain, "Away! Stay away!"

Loki could see the slough encompassing the iron jaws, a primitive trap biting deep into bone itself. "You are trapped and need assistance."

"No!" It snarled, fangs and teeth much longer than Sigyn's own, "Stay away!"

Sigyn whimpered, dropping to her belly in concern to inch across the ground and dirty her stomach.

"Silence, wolf." Loki spoke calmly, observing its front paw with a small frown, "Removing your paw will increase the madness which is pressing on your mind already."

"I free self and I bite you!" It threatened angrily, foaming spittle dropping from the corners of its maw, "I bite you!"

Loki stepped closer, reaching out to touch the paw itself. Instantly the furious creature clamped down on his arm, puncturing his Asgardian sleeve yet failing to break his skin. The teeth of Midgardian creatures were not able to tear the flesh of an Aesir.

It flinched back in surprise, pausing in confusion before reorienting itself and its position. It snarled threats, angrily roaring hatred as Loki felt the infected paw- putrid yellow squished under his fingers. There was little left for such an injury, it was a marvel Sigyn had found it before Hela had taken its once bright soul.

"Hush," Loki chastised, "I will free you and help you."

"I cannot bite!" It bemoaned in horror, "My teeth are broken!"

"No they aren't," Loki muttered in annoyance, grasping the leg and the bone with careful hands, "Be still-"

His Seidr snapped the limb, sealing it shut with liquid strength. The wolf stumbled upwards, limping horrendously as it was unable to balance on three legs.

"Free! Free!" It cheered, considering its mangled stump in confusion, "Hurt, am hurt but what-"

"Come with me," Loki spoke soothingly, running a hand through its bristly fur with a careful touch, "I will hunt for you until you can go on your own."

Its ears slid down, pressing flat to its skull. It growled threateningly, eyes savage and desperate. 'You hunt? You no teeth!"

His Seidr bubbled and boiled, racing a green ethereal light across his skin and across the torn sleeve of his shirt.

The wolf whimpered and tilted its head in wonder. It attempted to step forward, tripping over a root clumsily.

Loki slid an arm around its flank, cradling it like he once did Fenrir.

Sigyn bounded to her feet, racing after as they made way to the house Loki called home.

The wolf he named Fenris, after his own blood and kin, recovered and spoke in tongues about the sky-sire who listened to the songs he sang. Sigyn listened, interested and fascinated by the accented words of the larger creature, mimicking his melodic croon with disjointed barks.

Sigyn walked with Fenris, teaching him to run once more lacking a paw. They lazed around the garden, where Loki had an array of herbs and foods sprouting from the fertile soil.

The next visitor was an aged cat, limping and bloated with promise of kits. Fenris found her, stumbling along the base of the white skinned trees.

He growled at her, attempting to scare off the feline. She stood her ground, hissing and spitting with only one good eye and a horribly scarred ear.

"One does not hunt those with little," Fenris had told him in a melodic growl, dragging Loki to where the cat lay tired between the roots and an overturned rock.

He tempted her free, promising shelter for her unborn kits. She nestled in blankets Sigyn offered from her bed. The cat nibbled on the dried meats Loki had stored away.

She was a fascinating creature, noble and arrogant with enough generosity to assist Loki with basic endeavors. She understood the strange contraptions of Midgard, and offered her help when not nesting.

Loki named her Freydis, she snidely remarked how his outfit was peculiar.

How the sweet Sigyn would laugh, her voice like bells in the wind. She would tease his noble clothes, stained and torn from daily tasks. His armor was tarnished and dull, leather cracking from the sun.

There was a path out on the front of the house, a wide dirt trail for carriages or the Midgardian contraptions he had seen. He walked, Sigyn at his side, until his path met a larger dirt road heading both left and right.

He ventured right, scanning with his Seidr to warn him of mortals before he saw them.

When he did, they were not decorated in gaudy clothes or impractical headgear. They clothed themselves in trousers and shirts similar to the working hands- clothing that Sigyn had teased him to wear before.

He shifted his own garments from his native leathers into the thinner material. He went unseen, unrecognized. Invisible in the mortal's skin as he entered a bartering home, finding marvelous creations to ease both the passing of Freydis' kits as well as Fenris' bed.

The human in charge barely noticed him, instead tending to shelves of feed for hoofed animals like those on Asgard.

He was relieved to see that horses were not only an Aesir creature.

He found Hilde once venturing back into the Midgardian town.

Outside the building where he purchased his goods, having now familiarized himself with Midgardian currency. A man was tugging her bridle gently, easing the sad creature to a large trough of feed and drink.

He approached her at once, spotting her gnarled spine and fly bitten flank.

"Sad, isn't she?" The man stated, looking at the horse in grief, "She was trapped in a barn, couple miles up the road. Owner took off and left her there- rotten people."

"Indeed," Loki sniffed, barely pressing his hand to her dark fur.

"I was going to see if Miranda can take her in-" the man beckoned to the store, referring to the owner herself, "They have horse boarding in the back, and until they find her a better home-"

The horse turned her head, deep dark eyes meeting Loki with the vaguest spark of intelligence. Sigyn's own horse had resembled the mare as well.

"I'll take her," Loki smoothly stated, brushing his clean fingers through her sweat matted mane, "I have room."

The man blinked in surprise, "You do?" His expression lit up happily, "Where do you live? I haven't seen you here too often. You down south?"

Loki nodded briefly, pausing before he looked at the man firmly, "I reside multiple miles southern."

"And you take in strays?" The man asked curiously, a large genuine smile spread across his face, "That's wonderful. I'm sure she'll be very happy- do you need a trailer to get her back?"

Loki most certainly did not need one of those Midgardian contraptions. "I do not," He interjected calmly, "However, I will require feed and sustenance-"

"Sure thing," The man smiled, "Tell Miranda that Walter sent you in, you can get anything you need free of charge." He offered his hand politely, "I'm Walter obviously, Walter Newence."

Loki cautiously shook the man's hand, "Loptr."

Walter nodded and patted the horse's side once more, "Good luck with her!" Then he turned, clambering into a dull grey contraption and leaving the opposite direction Loki traveled.

The owner of the building, Miranda, thanked him for taking in the abused and malnourished horse. She provided him with unlimited amounts of grain and feed for not only a mare, but other creatures he not yet cared for.

In an impulsive moment, he told her of his location, and his availability to nurture those who were forgotten.

Sigyn would be smiling at him from behind Hela's throne.

Loki hadn't ever constructed a building before. He had seen the elves of Alfheim sing to the trees to warp branches into walls and roofs. He had seen the Vanir pound mallets into iron to shape logs into walls.

His Seidr was more wild than those of Asgard. They shaped the earth itself, warping the trees he uprooted into more suitable walls. He harvested the grasses from the meadow and lashed them together with twine woven from reeds.

He spelled the thatched roof against snow and water, carving enough glyphs to retain heat and bite back the winter's chill. He knew naught of how cold Midgard plummeted in the colder months, yet he dare not risk the health of his companions.

Hilde grew strong in the few months he owned her, feeding her apples stolen from orchards. Her mane grew long, yet lighter in color than the mare he named her after.

Freydis bore kits in the soft hay nearest Hilde's stall. They were mewling things, blind and deaf yet sucking fiends for mother's milk. Freydis purred loudly, permitting Loki to hold each kit and whisper blessings like midwives did to babes.

Fenris returned just before the snow fell with a creature ill in mind. It scratched and hissed, unable to speak through the clouded fog of its lost sanity.

Loki cured it of its madness, feeding it ashberries from Svartalfheim to draw the poison from its blood. It thanked him, unusually intelligent as it scrambled off with humanoid hands and the markings on its face of a thief.

In the town, he was gifted a bushel of apples, smelling sweet and ripe when he was near. Miranda gifted them to him, wishing him best for a harvest of crops and herbs.

He plucked and dried his spices and plants, filling the house with the uncomfortable smell of Alfheim spices and Midgardian apples. Sigyn complained, opting to sleep in the constructed shelter Fenris occupied outdoors.

The snow fell and with it, the creatures grew coats thick and fluffy to protect against the bite. Although the cold was ignorable compared to Jotunheimr, Loki took care to heat the house with wooden stoves fueled by chopped cherry wood.

Astrid stumbled onto the farm next, shivering and hairless from mange. He took her without hesitation into his home, bathing her with Midgardian plumbing to rid her of insects. Her sores were coated with crushed Marigold and oil, the infection drawn with careful Seidr to her sides.

She was small, weak compared to Sigyn yet strong in spirit. Her body was ghastly, yet her personality shone like a comet across the sky.

Magnus was next, delivered to him by Miranda on the eve of a Midgardian holiday. Magnus bleated sourly, pawing at the icy ground in hopes of finding greenery to eat.

Loki pondered if Miranda was aware of his helmet, or if it was coincidence how Magnus' horns looked eerily similar to his own.

The ice began to thaw and the snow rid itself from the ground. The days began to stretch longer, hinting at the season to come. Hilde ran through the mud, splashing her coat with dirt and grime. Astrid decided to best the horse, choosing to roll in large puddles of mud until her short grey fur was crackling and brown.

The day the birds chirped and began to pull at the ground for worms, Loki was informed by his wards that humans were lingering at the edge of his land. Nearest the road, yet advancing no further.

He investigated, with Sigyn matching him step for step.

"Look look!" she cheered excitedly, running around the base of a large wooden sign drilled deep into the ground nearest the entry to his home.

Loptr Farm, written in large black letters on a greenish backdrop.

'Look at you,' she would have laughed, 'A highly nobleman proud of land sowed by his own hand. Careful now, wouldn't want to thicken that princely skin of yours!'

He looked blankly at his own hands, seeing the formation of calluses.

'Ah,' He would have said, 'perhaps a prince long ago, but the work of Vanir is the most honorable of us all. If not for you, who would feed the mouths of our armies? Who would breed the fastest steeds? Who would sire the most beautiful maiden to inhabit the land?'

'Careful, Loki,' She would tease, 'Such complements to a commoner is not very princely.'

"Ah," He spoke aloud, eying the sign made from the hands of Midgardian's commoners, "but I am a prince no longer."

"Happy," Sigyn barked, wagging her tail enthusiastically, "Happy here. With friends."

"Yes," Loki agreed, a small smile spreading over his face as he looked far into the distance to see the rough shape of his house, "yet we have work to do still, Sigyn."

"We do?" She asked curiously, eyes blazing in excitement, "More friends?"

'Yes Loki,' The wind whispered through air, voice light and teasing, 'Are you going to find more friends for me?'

"More friends," Loki assured, looking down with the smallest smile, "Shall we find those who are in need?"

"Yes! Help!" Sigyn enthused, bolting towards the house as a grey and black arrow across the grass.

The air warmed once more and the tiny shoots of new grasses began to poke through the mud. Birds and rabbits scurried across the ground, poking at worms or at the tender leaves of new flowers.

Fenris recovered entirely, and despite his rigorous practice he was unable to run faster than Sigyn's fastest speed. He made his displeasure obvious, yet never snapped with teeth at any of his companions.

Fenris' permanent residence forced Loki to search for a reliable source of meat. He slipped away along pathways through the void, finding the scenery disorienting after having been so long without.

When he returned, he led the bridle of a purchased beast, burdened with malignant growth. The dwarves had long since raised the Hroemr, sheltering and harvesting their uncontrollable meat and flesh.

Loki whispered soothing words to the startled creature, housing it with Hilde and Freydis' many kin. It buckled, burrowing into the soft straw and marveling in the luxury it was not used to. It would grow, vestigial meat and skin beyond the limits of sustainability. Loki would harvest and help the Hroemr, and in return offer it grain and shelter.

The running pack, headed by Sigyn had scurried across a nest of orphan rabbits. The mother taken by the merciless talons of goshawks. Loki searched the house, creating wooden tables and boxes in the dust filled spaces he neither needed or cared for.

He planted his garden, adding native foods Miranda had gifted him in exchange for one of Freydis' kits. He had to scold Magnus' who shuffled too close and threatened the growing stalks with his constant chewing.

Letters were delivered by a human courier, placing envelopes inside the box nearest the end of his dirt trodden path.

He read them under the kitchen lights, sorting through a Thank You letter from Walter for Hilde, and invites to festivities from Miranda. There were other notes as well, strange papers printed more uniform than a scribe, painted with poorly rendered drawings which were contradictory realistic. They detailed animals without bartering, merely requesting a home for those unwanted.

Gunnar was the brilliant stag who stumbled wounded into the meadow. His failed attempts at fighting another left him impaled and bleeding, bold and careless under Fenris' tongue.

The thief marked creature once tainted by madness returned, bearing him paws full of forgeable nuts and berries. Loki's new knowledge of Midgardian animals provided him knowledge that his taciturn companion was a Raccoon.

Scout was the aged hound, half blind and arthritic in his hips. He appeared with Miranda, being led gently by a soft rope.

"We should repaint this sign," She teased friendly, "Loptr's Farm for wayward animals."

He didn't protest, although he did glance over the multiple 'printed' papers from animal adoption services and grimy 'websites', as Miranda called it.

He purchased a saddle and other necessities, thankful they were identical to the ones stable hands used. He mounted Hilde, exercising her in the sunlight with the pack of hounds at her heels. Astrid ran alongside Scout, her body so small she nearly tucked under his stomach.

Gunnar ran too, understanding at the meadow and the surrounding woods meant no harm and no threat for violence. He healed from his wounds, returning a week after with the pregnant swell of a doe's belly.

Walter visited, to see how Hilde had settled. He cried in fear at the sight of Fenris. Once Loki had soothed the man, he actually did cry once seeing Magnus ram his horns against his reflected image in the door of his car.

Loptr became known in the small town in rural Iowa. Papers from neighbors Loki had never met appeared, pinned below his sign with needles. Details about various animals in search for a place of rest- orphaned foal's, abandoned kits, ancient mules and scarred oxen.

His stables were enhanced, expanded upon past the limits of mortal understanding. His home was shifted, entire rooms warded to envelop the blistering heat of desert or the tangible wet of tropics.

He dug a pond, deep and clean to house a turtle with a broken shell. Muskrats drew in from hidden creeks, making homes with mud and cattails despite the near presence of a large wolf.

Serea, the mighty eagle wounded from a bullet's path, flew high over the home and into the free air.

She returned with whispers of strange creatures down below, across the road and grasses behind metal bars and angry humans.

Loki investigated of course, and held no mercy for the savage men who held something desperate and feral, keening for help under the angry growls.

"Hush," Loki spoke, tongue dripping silver, "You are safe now."

Its ears pressed flat to its skull, pacing in its tiny cage with paws the size of plates, "No," she grumbled, eyes wide with past horror and abuse, "Not."

"You are," Loki urged, observing the disgusting room lavished with unproportioned tokens of wealth. In Asgard he had seen men do similar things, capturing drakes as trophy's, stunting their wings and tackling them for jest.

The creature made a wounded sound, curling its pale tail under her body. "Not safe."

Loki opened the door, swinging the metal far enough to free the giant beast from where it sat, "You are. I can promise you safety and shelter, a haven until you are well."

It revealed fangs, as large as his hand and golden like sunshine, "I eat you if you lie."

Loki stepped into the cage, slowly running his hand down her spine and over her pronounced ribs, "I do not lie to those who need help."

She tossed her head, smacking it heavily into Loki's chest. He hadn't worn his armor in so long, opting for the comfort of the workhands clothing. He felt the hit heavily, stumbling backwards under her weight.

"Are there more of you?" He asked carefully, mindful of her enormous claws.

"Was one," She grumbled, "Like me, but color of angry sun. Dark, and he starved."

Loki's face twitched, "I'm sorry I was not here sooner."

She snorted sourly, "Below, disgusting stick. Its sour."

Loki descended as per her instructions, locating a creature encapsulated with fragmenting wood and rusted locks.

"Oh," He breathed, flinching at the sight of darkened scales and many coils, "Hello there."

It stuttered, trying to unwind from the cold dark prison it had been shoved into. Loki tugged gently on its mass, pulling it from the crate and holding it aloft the alchemy equipment which smelled so sweet to his nose. Perhaps the men brewed potions in secrecy, like the dark dealers on the lower courts.

"Hello?" It warbled, voice intoxicated and slow as it struggled to awareness, "Help?"

"I will," Loki assured, wrapping the thick muscle around his neck and side, holding the shaking serpent with both hands as he ascended the steps.

The feline was waiting for him, sitting with her tail curled before her paws with as much pride as she could regain. Loki shifted them back to his farm, placing her in the barn with promise to keep her safe.

The serpent, as long as Asgard's feasting table, curled under the blissful warmth Loki's spells provided.

Loki named the lion Mira, after the gentle pride Miranda displayed.

Loki named the serpent Jorm, after the son he had once, and lost again.

Mira was intelligent, and scathingly witty. She lounged on the soft hay, basking in the sunlight shone through the windows.

"Missed spot," she intoned lazily, not opening her eyes as Loki mucked out Hilde's stall.

"I did not," Loki huffed playfully, leisurely placing the dirtied bedding in a wheeled cart. "Although if you're so certain I did, perhaps you would like to try? "

"No hands," she drawled back, opening her maw in an obscene yawn, "Food soon?"

"After I'm done with your own stall," Loki retorted, watching in amusement as the lioness leapt to her feet, kicking her hind legs ferociously to expel the straw. She looked uncannily similar to Freydis, kicking her legs after finishing that which was private.

"Done," She stated bluntly, "Now food."

"All of that has to get in this wagon," Loki pointed out, causing the lioness to groan loudly and pad past him to venture outside in the pasture. It was likely that she would run with the pack, or halfheartedly paw at Magnus who always tried to ram her flank.

Franco, the newest addition to the farm and unfortunately the only one with a preexisting name, flaunted around cockily and followed Magnus like his shield brother. The only comfort, was he enjoyed the careful scratches Loki gave as he sheared off the thick wool along his neck as summer grew closer. The alpaca had an attitude, although was very fond of the short reckless goat.

Miranda visited often, bringing a cart with her to gently transport various animals to activities. Hilde enjoyed it, excitedly rushing to be loaded and sent to the children's farm where she would assist children who loved her so. Freydis' final kit was removed, gifted to the teacher of the only school in the area by her adoring students.

Magnus and Franco made a wonderful team, and often entertained parties of children's birth. Loki didn't understand it, although Miranda appreciated it and often gifted him baskets of cheese and fruit.

Loki adopted Carl, the mellow spirited python in shades of white and yellow. He draped himself across the furniture, curling around blankets and pillows in the main sitting room.

Loki almost dared to say that he was happy.

'Is it all you desired, Sigyn?' He thought, sitting on the wooden chair of his back porch. Sigyn sprinted across the ground, barking enthusiastically as Fenris, Astrid, and Scout followed her happily. Hilde glanced up as the group ran past, chewing thoughtfully on a long strand of native grasses. Magnus bleated loudly, stomping his foot at Mira, who had somehow managed to clamber on top of the stable to watch the sunset. Franco sneezed, twitching his nose as he inhaled pollen from the wild violets.

Freydis meowed wordlessly, running her tail along Loki's exposed calves. She looked at him intently with her one good eye, pausing as if considering something momentous. Then she launched herself upwards, claws tearing into fabric and bouncing off his tough skin.

"You could have warned me," Loki noted, arching one eyebrow as Freydis broke into happy purrs and settled hazardously on his thighs.

"What would be fun in that?" She teased, flicking her one ear and the torn shreds of the other as he blew on them teasingly, "Stop, no air."

"Then you would suffocate, my dear." Loki wisely stated, running one hand down her back. She pouted, purring against her will.

It was strangely peaceful, and for the first time in eons, Loki could say that he was truly happy.

(Of course, as all things are destined to be, it didn't last very long after the newest dog stumbled onto his farm.)