He laughed again. Oh, she was clever. And spunky. Two traits that amused him greatly and did nothing sway his interest in her at the moment. If anything, it was only succeeding in making him more interested in this mystery woman.
He didn't tell her that he had a rather firm grasp on the who was who among the ladies of Asgard. Once she got his name, she'd know immediately. It was a bit of information he was going to have to give her, it seemed, because her argument was very valid. It was hard to argue with logic. “I concede defeat to your logic. And,” he added, “you can put your hammer down if you're not going to use it in showing me what you're doing. It doesn't intimate me.” Lie. Weapons in general intimated him a great deal. But he'd give her an inclination of who he was before he actually gave his name. “When you've been near Thor as often as I have when he's slinging Mjollnir around, it damages your after hammer's... intimidation quotient.”
Then Loki took a step backwards with one foot. “But I suppose if I am to yield to your logic, I must give you my name.” He extended his right arm forward, palm up, then brought it to his waist and bowed moderately as he said, “Loki Laufeysson, at your service.” Returning upright, the only thought that entered his mind was the hope that she wouldn't immediately flee. She didn't seem the type that would be thrilled with his presence. Then again, she hadn't left yet.
And where the thought that he didn't want her to leave was coming from, he wasn't sure. So he offered a friendly smile.