I'm barely awake and a little worse for wear as we stand on the kerb the next morning. It's dark and I feel like I should still be asleep as the taxi appears. With two big bags in front of me and one for Loki, we look like we are leaving for a year. And it feels like it too, I know I have to go to Asgard after London and I don't know when I'll be back. Time differences could mean a visit of week there is a couple of months or even a year here, unless Loki knows some way of stopping that happening. I really don't know how it works to be honest, I wish I did. All I know is that after London I'm going away. A long long way away.

The rest of the house was quiet as we were leaving it's adding to my melancholia, bringing my mood crashing down, I can't even say goodbye – yes we did last night but in the dull morning light it feels even more like I won't be back in a hurry, I won't see my friends. I suppose I should be so excited, I'm heading to London to audition for a play that I love with an actor I admire and yet all I feel is dread and loss.

It's Loki's fault, he's already tried again to talk me out of flying, I'm not giving in though, I have a stubborn streak – yes, I'll admit that BUT as I've told him over and over I won't live in fear, I won't modify my life just because I'm part of some alien royal family that up until a week ago (hell it's only a week?) I didn't know existed.

He can roll his eyes and groan at me all he likes. I didn't ask for all this and so far I don't see any perks in being a "Princess of Asgard".

So we are flying and that's that and Loki can pout and sulk all he likes.

We pile into the taxi, stow our gear in the back (I'm sure Loki mostly has books in his suitcase but I can't talk a few of my non-wearable purchases from yesterday may be hiding among my smalls).

It's quiet on the ride through my suburb and out across the bridge, we don't talk, both preferring to stare out of our respective windows. There's very little traffic and all the city lights are still on. It's kind of surreal to be honest; Sydney in the early Sunday morning light. It's the only time a metropolis like this slows down in the whole week and if I wasn't so anxious I think I'd be enjoying the drive, enjoying the stillness. but I'm not. I can't help it. I just want the whole journey over, I want to be in London settled in at Lokis flat – my one concession - and preparing for my audition. Loki's place is closer to the audition space than the hotel I booked. The hotel was going to cost me a motza anyway and while I am an actress (and royality), I'm not made of money. If I can save on accommodation I will, plus I'm curious to see where the king of Asgard lives when he's slumming it with humanity.

We make good time on our journey and travel through customs and security pretty quickly too. I'm surprised to see that Loki has a passport, though I think I'm enough of an actress that I don't show it –much. He smirks a little at me as he hands it over and I wonder how the hell he managed to get a British passport that, for someone who is urging me not to fly, has so many stamps.

His smile turns more to the enigmatic side of things now and I know I'm not going to get a straight answer from the "god of mischief".

"Full of surprises," I mumble as we make our way to the lounge.

"You have no idea!" he growls back with the familiar eyebrow quirk and I shiver, because its cold in the airport at this time of morning and because well, just because.

We are flying first class, not my doing, someone had us upgraded, something about "if I to fly in a tin can I'm at least going to be comfortable".

Snob.

I don't mind being in coach and observing the other passengers, as an actress I find it a fascinating window into other people's worlds and a valuable tool for my craft. But obviously my travelling companion doesn't feel the same way, it's all about luxury with him. Fine tailoring for his suits, nice shoes and now first class travel; well he is royalty I suppose.

We wait patiently to board and instead of trying again to convince me not to fly like he did in bed this morning (no – not in THAT way – mind out of gutter –with his tongue – sigh I give up). Anyway instead of trying to talk me out of flying he takes a totally different tack, he takes out a book from his briefcase carry-on and ignores me.

Entirely.

I'm a little miffed to be honest. At the moment we are the only ones waiting in the lounge and he doesn't seem to care. We have the freedom to talk but he has his nose in a book like I don't exist.

Two can play at that game, I drag out my audition script and run through it in my mind. I'm tempted to do it out-loud just to pee Mr Snobby Bum off. But I'm still tired and my voice is a little worse for wear and I know that the plane and the different air pressures are going to play further havoc with my sinuses and voice so I decide to rest. (Tell me again why I didn't ask Loki to do his – molecular transfer thing?).

It doesn't matter anyway because it's only a matter of about ten minutes before our flight is called and we are boarding the plane.

It feels weird being up at the pointy-end – there is room to move and chairs that recline so far and that so wide that I could actually snuggle under the lovely soft complimentary blanket and go back to sleep. I rest my head against the cool glass of the window and close my eyes, willing the pain throbbing behind my eyes away before we take off. But apparently it's not listening and as we taxi down the runway my sinuses add to the pain until I'm really not enjoying this (not that I'm going to say anything to Loki). The light is coming through the windows as we finally take to the skies. I briefly think of looking down and saying good bye to my adopted home city but I'm already feeling lost and I don't want to think about how long I might be away. Under me the emerald city of Aus starts to fade away, my home country – well the one I thought and believed was the country of my birth will be out of sight soon. We are heading for the horizon, for a new horizon.

Don't get me wrong, this isn't the first time I've flown – I'm Australian – we have two types of people in this country – those who will never ever leave in a pink fit and those who are always leaving. And I suppose I'm in the second camp, though in my case it's more about my chosen profession than any strange psychological need to leave the great southern land. I love this country, what I thought was my country – I love the cities and I love my home – the old homestead out on the Murrumbidgee, on the Hay plains, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wide open spaces, salt bushes and nothing. And even knowing that it isn't really my home country doesn't diminish my love for it. My family are there – my whole nuclear family, my brother's, my dad and my mum – the only mum I know. And I'm leaving them.

I close my eyes and try to sleep and try not to cry.

I'm being a woos but all of a sudden I miss my family, I should have rung them last night. I know I'll ring them from London but it all seems so far away but not as far as my next destination, I don't even know where Asgard is in the big wide universe but wherever it seems too far from the Erriksons, my Erriksons, way too far from home.

I wonder briefly if I can ring them from Asgard – hell imagine what the roaming fee would be on calling from another planet? Telstra will own my arse forever.

I sigh, a little louder than I wanted too, and Loki peers curiously over his book at me.

"We're a long way from Hay," I say quietly.

He cocks his head and smiles sympathetically (who knew the man was actually able to do that?).

"You just have to say the word and you can see them anytime," he says quietly, "I'll make sure!" His hand comes up and squeezes mine on the arm rest. I smile gratefully back. He would be familiar with leaving home like this, not knowing when he would see his family again – moving to the castle to be trained as a king. I briefly wonder how old he was when all this happened to him, I gather he wasn't very old.

"Eight, well the Asgard equivalent to Earth's eight," he says squeezing my hand.

I look at him wide-eyed.

"Are you sure you can't read my mind?" I say for the 10th time, he smiles and squeezes my hand again.

"No but I could see the way your line of thought was going – I was eight and I didn't really see my family much after that, only on the rare occasions that they come to court -though it's no great loss."

"Not even your mother?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head.

"I don't remember my mother, she died when I was very young and my father's second wife wasn't as accepting as yours," he answered sadly.

I put my second hand on top of his and gently squeezed and he smiles at me almost gratefully.

"But your family has made up for that –well your grandmother," he says.

"I could imagine that she's an amazing lady," I say sadly realising that I really don't know, I've missed out on knowing her, I know we were close when I was young but I don't even know her know now. I wouldn't have been able to pick her out in a line-up before last week.

"You are very much like her and there is plenty of time for you to get to know each other when you come home," he says smiling. I sense he's going to say more but the attendant comes around to offer us some refreshments. I decline close my eyes and snuggle back in my chair and drift off.

I wake up a few hours later to have lunch, before I grab out a book from my carry-on and start to read. Loki is quiet after our earlier chat and back buried behind some scientific tome or other. The bustle of the past few weeks catches up on me and I'm soon drifting off to sleep again- my book laying forgotten on the floor.

The next time I surface it's dark and there are flashes out the window. The plane is shaking wildly. So wildly that the oxygen masks have come down and people are screaming.

Loki isn't in his seat.

Dread pools in the pit of my stomach and for a moment I think he's abandoned me and then I see him, peering out the window in the previously empty seats in front of us. His eyes, reflected in the glass, are wild, his stare is fierce and his long lithe body looks so tensed up and coiled that he looks like a spring about to burst out into action.

Babies are howling and people are gasping and screaming as the plane drops and lurches. The captain is speaking, reassuring us that it's just turbulence and that all will be okay but from the look in his eyes, I can tell Loki doesn't believe him. He struggles up out of the seat and comes to me just as the sky lights up around us. It doesn't look natural, the sky is a dark shade of purple and the clouds outside seem to be electrified. A flight attendant seated in front of us yells for him to sit down but doesn't get out of his seat. The plane lurches just as Loki makes his way out of the row in front, he grabs on to the seat doing his best not to be flung across the plane. I'm surprised at his strength as he manages to hold on despite the buffeting. The plan steadies for a moment and Loki uses that moment of peace to dive into his seat.

I get a horrible feeling that I've brought this on us all. That this is no ordinary storm.

Loki seems to agree, he struggles into his seat but instead of putting his seat belt on he reaches across me and undoes my belt in quick angry movements. Before I can protest he hisses.

"I told you, warned you – we have to leave before they disintegrate this whole fucking tin can with us inside."

Before I can say anything, before I can protest he has hold of my wrist and the plane is disappearing around me and I feel like I'm flying through the air, space, through a tunnel. The wind is fierce, ripping at my clothing filling my ears and mouth and making it impossible to breath to do anything but cling on to Loki for dear life. This is not like the other time I travelled, this is chaotic and uncontrolled. I am pressed against Loki so closely that if we weren't being ripped and jostled and holding on for dear life it would be intimate, more intimate than I thought I was ready to be with Loki. But there is nothing sexual about this as I throw my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist and he pulls me even closer to his body.

"Hold on darling hold on," he yells, a whisper in space as we rush headlong through something and nothing, lights, colour and wind ripping and rippling around us (isn't space a vaccumn?) I tuck my head into Loki's body and scream silently into his shoulder. It feels like it lasts forever and yet it's probably just a few seconds and then, suddenly, we break through an atmosphere and hurtle in a more controlled fashion, through downward. I don't open my eyes, I'm not game. I stay wrapped around Loki's body praying to whatever entity there is that I'm not about to turn into a spot on the concrete.

And then suddenly it all stops and there is calm. I feel Loki's body lurch and land. He stumbles, probably off balance due to my extra weight, but stays on his feet.

I keep my eyes closed for a minute, afraid to move and then I hear a voice, a familiar voice.

"Well you two look a little worse for wear, now come in and wash up and tell my why you just decimated my favourite rose garden!"

}