"Teaching you to fight would be easier than teaching you magic. That I was conventionally taught, and it's quite common for even peers to show each other things, so I've more than no experience with it."

"Shall I fetch my sword, or should I start with fists or at least something less... Sharp?"

"You are not likely to hurt me with your sword, and if you do I can fix it. We can begin with unarmed if you prefer though."

"It seems sensible." He is much too polite to attack first and see if he can get some kind of advantage with even a minimal amount of surprise. But it looks like he considered it.

"We'll want a decent amount of space. And you will spend a lot of time violently encountering the floor and may want a mat of some kind."

"Well, the cargo bay is full and the rest of the ship is pretty narrow. The platform on the roof and some furs? They're probably the best padding I have - there are some rubber things in my mechanisms but not enough to make a mat. We can wear ropes so we won't fall off completely."

"Furs are fine if that's all you have. I'll skip the rope, but you can wear one, just be aware that they're going to throw off your form and limit your ability to move in three dimensions."

"If by 'for real' you mean 'with intent to kill' that will last until they cut your rope, which cannot defend itself, or grab it to make you lose your footing. Did you mean something else?"

"...Good point. I was referring to the fact that all the stories of pirates I've heard of involve them descending by rope and fighting the target ship's crew with everyone still attached to their ropes. I had a friend who survived a pirate attack once, and to hear him tell it neither side fought to kill. But stories are stories, and you're the one with real experience fighting things so I should trust your judgement."

"Pirates might want a ransom," she says. "Which its own tactical situation. You might benefit from learning to fight with a rope, but it'd be a handicap on your expertise any time you tried to work without one."

"Then let's fight without one. Just be careful not to throw me too close to the edge."

"I will be very mindful of the edge. But at first I'm not going to throw you. You're going to throw yourself so that you can learn to land correctly without hitting your head, hurting your neck, or catching an elbow wrong."

He follows Loki's instructions as best he can. It helps a bit that he's lived his whole life on flying objects, he has better balance and recovery than an untrained Midgardian would have. But not that much better.

And she corrects his stance and his technique. Relentlessly. And when he screws up, well, the cat is out of the bag on her healing; she heals him.

"Yes. Are you sure you should stay up, though?"

"Just long enough to get us attached to an island. Somehow they avoid hitting each other all on their own, so attaching yourself to one is a good way to stay safe."

"All right. What sort of light will be best?"

He looks around. There's still, barely, enough light to see outlines. "We should head for that one. Can you shine a beam on it, bright enough to see details? And enough light for me to see the controls and dials, too."

Now the island is bathed in clear white light, and there is a little blob of more light over Nick's head, which will follow him when he walks.

"Night."

The next morning, Nick is up at exactly sunrise. While making breakfast, he notices something. That bag of flour seems strangely lighter than it did yesterday. He experiments by throwing various objects across the room.

Loki hears the racket. "What are you doing?"