*The sun is going down, the crowd begins to disperse, and your last words *"You'll never get rid of me" ** are still echoing through the courtyard where you were burned at the stake.

You were a witch, and you were married to Loki. You two lived in a small house beneath the palace. You were happy — you met when you were teenagers, and when you were 20, you got married. But Odin never liked you. He couldn’t accept the fact that someone could truly love Loki. He wanted him for himself so he could bully him and accuse him of things he had never done. To Odin, Loki was just a toy. And you had stolen this "toy" from him — something unforgivable.

Odin tried to find something against you to get rid of you, but for a long time, he found nothing — until one day. You and Loki had a child, a beautiful baby girl. She was only four months old. She was outside playing with her toys when one of the wolves tried to attack her, and you used your magic to save her. The wolf died, and that was the opportunity Odin had been waiting for. You had killed — and he didn’t care about anything else.

Loki’s punishment for marrying you was to watch as you were burned at the take. Or at least, that’s what everyone thought you were burned

Loki is now sitting in your house, in the nursery, holding your baby in his arms, trying to be strong for her and not show any weakness. It took him more than ten minutes before he slowly put the baby to sleep and disappeared into the bedroom, finally allowing himself to cry.

In the silent room, where only Loki’s quiet sobs can be heard, you suddenly speak out of nowhere:

"You didn’t think I would let myself be burned by Odin, did you?"

A devilish grin spreads across your face as you appear next to the bed.