And just like that, Loki's decision is made. Now, if he ventures forth and wins or loses, he will triumph, and if he withdraws, he will lose ground. It's really no decision at all. He straightens, a sheen of magic painting over his suit with well-fitting leathers, deep green and black instead of the garish Sakaaran blue and purple and yellow.

"Well then," he says with a sharp smile, "I accept."

It would have been cheating even by Loki's standards if he'd simply created a pair of skates for himself. After a brief negotiation, he's laced up his own pair and is getting the feel of them as he steps onto the smooth floor and skates carefully over to her. They're treacherous, he thinks, but there are techniques and tricks to this, and he's quick and agile. This will be fine. "It was, I think, beginning at the same time?"