Hello, lovely people!
So, after breaking my own heart repeatedly by reading countless Loki-fics, I have now decided to un-break my heart by writing a 'Less Angst – More Love' fic. Sooo, there will be some fluff. Consider yourself warned.
Like Tom Hiddleston says: 'it's kinda weird, 'cause he's so...sad. I just want to make it all right for him.'
Anyway, I have actually written a couple of chapters already (needs editing, though) so I will post rather frequently – at least twice a week. (Update: it's been 2 days, and I have posted 3 chapters, and will post a fourth one later today. Apparently it's going to be a lot more than twice a week xD Happy reading!)
I hope you'll like my story, and I will be thrilled beyond belief if you leave me a review.

All right, here we go!

-o-

Chapter 1 – The Day for Horrible Decisions

Swedish philosopher Nick Bostrom said 'Discovering traces of life on Mars would be of tremendous scientific significance: The first time any signs of extraterrestrial life had ever been detected. Many people would also find it heartening to learn that we're not entirely alone in this vast, cold cosmos.'

'Heartening' was not the word Amber Day would have chosen, that much was certain. She would perhaps have used words like 'horrifying' or 'awful' instead. She would, in fact, have preferred to be entirely alone in this vast, cold cosmos.

But, as it were, they were not entirely alone in this vast, cold cosmos - not at all. Extraterrestrial life was as of now a proven fact, and it was not of the sweet and benevolent 'E.T. phone-home-be-good' kind. Of all the movies made about alien invasions, Amber thought Independence Day was rather close to the truth. Bill Pullman had yet to appear and hold a rousing speech, however, so things were not looking good at this point.

There had not been any warning before it happened either, because the aliens had - instead of flying in from space, in a polite, orderly fashion - opened a hole in the sky, right over New York. Spaceships in different shapes and sizes had proceeded to pour out of the hole, and was still pouring out of the hole.

Things were not looking good, indeed. They were looking rather awful, in fact.

The descent to 'awful' began just a few days ago, when Amber had – like any other day – been on her way to the university where she was studying literature. She had moved to New York not too long ago for that sole purpose – studying literature. What a horrendous decision that had been. She should have stayed in England. Lovely, quiet England, where impossible things didn't happen. Rarely happened, anyway.

She had moved because she needed a change. A change of profession, more specifically. Three years in the army, and then almost nine months in Afghanistan would do that to you.

Amber was twenty-nine years old, and was satisfied with what she had achieved in life so far. She was a trained nurse, and after joining the army, she had gone through the motions to become a combat medic as well.

Eventually, her training had landed her as a combat medic in Afghanistan, and even though she could say she had saved a lot of lives… Well, she needed a change.

And so, she had moved to New York – away from England where impossible things didn't happen.

In New York, however, impossible things did happen, and Amber had the 'pleasure' of experiencing said impossible things first hand just a few days ago.

- Flashback -

Amber stopped when she heard all kinds of commotion, people screaming, a lot of running, and of course she had to run toward the commotion, resulting in her being 'trapped' in a crowd of people, and was currently fighting her way out - attempting to fight her way out, at least.

Of course, fighting her way out turned out to be a bad decision. A horrible decision, in fact.

She managed to get free from the crowd, just to find her way blocked. It hadn't been blocked a mere second ago, so she was confused to say the least. The confusion of it all made her unable to actually stop running, so she ran directly into the sudden blockage.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, quickly stepping back. There was no reply, and she carefully looked at this 'blockage'.

A man was standing in front of her, and she immediately realised that she was in big trouble. This was not just any man.

The first sign was his attire. Because, wow, that was quite the getup. Black leather - there was a whole lot of black leather going on - skin-tight suit, with details in gold. He had a green cape attached by the shoulders of the ankle-length coat he was wearing. The coat was black and green, with a high collar, protective plating on his shoulders and down his arms – also gold, of course.

He was carrying a staff - sceptre - something, and it had a glowing crystal at the top - shining bright blue.

The most noticeable thing, however, was his golden helmet.

Horns. It had horns. And not just any horns, no, it was two, huge, backward-curling horns. Like a goat - or gazelle, perhaps. No, not that either. What was that animal called - the one who had this type of horns? Nubian Ibex - or something.

The helmet was quite frankly utterly ridiculous. It would have made anyone look like a complete imbecile. Anyone but him, apparently. She was a bit impressed by the way he managed to pull off a gold helmet with horns, when she thought about it.

Also, he had blue eyes. Very blue eyes.

Fuck are you doing? she thought as she was just standing there, staring at him. Why are you thinking about his eyes? Focus!

He was staring at her as well, and he did not like it when people slammed into him, if his expression was anything to go by.

"How dare you," hissed the man, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. "How dare you, mortal."

Mortal. Hm. She had to file that away somewhere, so she could analyse it later. Because 'mortal?' Really?

"I'm sorry," she said, and couldn't quite make herself look away - or run away - something she probably should do. "I meant no harm."

He gave her the proverbial evil eye, and slammed the staff in the ground, resulting in a flash of blue that almost knocked the air from her lungs.

"Kneel before me," the man said in a commanding voice, and she had no idea what to do. "I said, KNEEL!"

Everyone kneeled, and after gazing at the man for a moment, so did she.

Because why not, quite frankly. This was not the time for political statements.

"I am Loki, of Asgard!"

She didn't even think what she was doing when her head snapped up. "What, really?"

His blue eyes fixed on her, and she immediately realised how much of a bad idea that had been. This was the day for horrible decisions, apparently.

"What do we have here?" he said silkily, causing a whole new level of terror in her. "A rebel? A mere mortal, speaking against a god?"

She stared at the ground, shaking her head.

"Answer me," he hissed. "Look at me."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "I believe you," she heard herself say, and was thoroughly surprised when she realised she actually did believe him. "I was just...surprised, that's all."

Surprised, indeed. Wasn't that just the understatement of the century.

He actually looked briefly surprised himself. "Do you believe so easily?"

She found she rather wondered about that as well, but this was not the time to contemplate such things.

"Northern mythology - it makes sense, in a way," she said, inwardly cursing herself for speaking up in the first place. "More sense than many of the other religions and mythologies, at least."

"Northern mythology," he said, and the smile on his face was unnerving on a whole new level. "As you might realise, I am no myth." He fixed her with blue eyes, and there was a dangerous glint in them. Not good. Not good at all.

"Since you are so 'knowledgeable' in the subject," he said in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "do you know who I am?"

Her voice was no more than a whisper when she spoke. "God of Mischief, Chaos, and Fire."

He smirked. "Indeed. And what do they say about me?"

"The tales of you are…varied."

"Varied?"

How the hell did you get yourself into this, honestly, she thought as she drew a shivering breath. "Yes. Some good, some bad."

He narrowed his eyes. "And which ones are true, do you think?"

She drew another shivering breath. "All of them - none of them?"

"Playing it safe, I see," he said, and huffed. "Disappointing."

"I just think that the truth is lost to us," she whispered. "One should not look for facts and truth in ancient books."

He looked briefly surprised again before cocking his head, studying her. "And what am I - do you think - now that you look at me?"

She gazed at him for a moment, wondering what the hell to respond. If half of the things she knew was actually true… He was not evil. God of Mischief, Chaos, and Fire. None of those things were evil. It all depended on the situation. If Loki was anything like the lore said, he was not evil. He was…misunderstood.

And apparently it had taken her less than a minute to develop a severe case of Stockholm syndrome if she already was at the point where she called him 'misunderstood'. She was a walking cliché. Lovely.

She shook her head. "I don't know."

He huffed again. "Mortals. Too much fear to speak the truth. Shame. I am evil, is that is?"

"Chaos is not necessarily evil."

What's happening to his eyes? she thought as she watched his eyes flicker. The colour in his eyes flickered. The intense blue faded for a moment, and she realised his eyes had the same colour as the glowing crystal on the tip of his staff. What did that staff do? It affected him in some way, but exactly how, she couldn't say.

The blue in his eyes faded completely, and for a brief moment - no more than a second - he looked at her with green eyes - green eyes that looked strangely vulnerable.

"Insolence," he hissed, and before she knew it, the air was knocked out of her by some invisible force, and it sent her flying through the air, landing with a hard thump on the pavement - quite the distance away.

So much for having doubts about his pure 'evilness, she thought as she groaned in pain. The pavement was not a comfortable place to be tossed around on. But it didn't seem as if she had broken anything, thankfully.

"Is not this simpler?" she heard him say, and she realised his focus was on the crowd. She could run - possibly. If she was to run, she had to do it now.

"Is this not your natural state?" he continued, and she took one final glance, seeing him walk amongst the crowd, as if he owned them.

Amber shuffled up from the pavement, hissing in pain as she heard his voice again. "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled."

Amber finally managed to convince her body that running was a good idea, and the last thing she heard made her shiver.

"In the end, you will always kneel."

Amber ran until it felt as if her lungs would burst, and her foot hurt like hell. Realising she had to rest for a moment, she found a narrow alleyway, and sat down behind a dumpster.

Her mind was spinning. What was happening to the world? "I am Loki, of Asgard," he had said, and Amber had believed him. Why had she believed him? She didn't quite know, but there was just…something about him, something different. Very different. And that staff-sceptre-thing he was carrying? There was definitely something different about that.

And he had tossed her through the air as if she weighed no more than a bag of chips.

Why did he do that? she thought. Why did he throw me away when he obviously didn't want anyone to escape?

Amber didn't understand. But she had a feeling not everything was as it seemed.

- End flashback -

Amber had - like the rest of the population - spent quite some time running around like a headless chicken when the hole in the sky opened, but she had eventually managed to calm herself enough to stop and think.

She had considered her options. She could run and hide, or she could stay and fight.

Amber had chosen the latter. The aliens were not invincible, and although she had no means to harm the spaceships, she could do her part against the aliens on the ground. Not without weapons, though.

She had to get home.

Amber had left the army, even moved away from England because she'd had enough of blood and violence, and needed a change. She had then proceeded to move to New York, just in time for a fucking alien invasion. How ironic.

But, considering how she did have quite a lot of experience with blood and violence, Amber would fight. With three years in the army, almost nine months in Afghanistan… Surely she could rough up some aliens.

And so, she had to get home.

Amber had never been happier, or more grateful that she was an annoyingly curious being, something that resulted in her picking up the most random skills whenever she came across something that seemed interesting. Said skills included juggling, practically anything that had to do with a computer, using a slingshot with deadly precision, and hot-wiring a car, or in this case - a motorcycle.

Her favourite random skill was the slingshot. It had all begun with her brother teasing her once upon a time, telling her how she would never be as good as he was. Amber had decided to prove him wrong, and had succeeded brilliantly. So now she could do quite a lot of damage with it, something that had come in handy countless times.

A nurse with a slingshot. She couldn't exactly blame them for underestimating her.

-o-

She had really wanted to just stay home once she got there, but she knew she couldn't. The whole city was in a state of emergency, and everything was basically falling apart. The phone lines were down - or overwhelmed - and the infrastructure was in shambles. Some TV stations were still up and running, but she wondered how long that would last.

She had managed to send a mail to her mum, telling her she was alive, giving a quick explanation of what was happening, and that she was going into the city to do whatever she could to help, because the city needed all the help it could get. She wrote that she had all her military equipment - weapons, armour, medical kit - and that she would try to stay out of the fray as much as possible. She ended by telling how much she loved them all, and that she would contact them again as soon as she was able.

And then, she had ventured out into the chaotic city again, armed and ready for combat - if needed be.