A Legend of Mischief (Loki Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

"I may essentially be a hermit, but at least I still exercise."

An amused hum came from the sword against her left hip.

"Shut it." Nyneve scowled at the weapon, the moonstone set in the pommel glimmering back at her in the moonlight. She had just broken free of the tree line, making her way up a rocky slope to an outcropping. Lightning had flashed nearby a short time before, a storm gathering in the night. Rather than afraid, Nyneve was curious. The night felt odd, something in the air, which had quieted and stilled.

Pausing to scan the horizon, Nyneve brushed back a few dark strands of long hair, her brow furrowed. A wind blew through, making Nyneve glad she had her insulated brown leather jacket fully zipped. Her sword began giving a low warning hum, only loud enough for its bearer to hear. Nyneve soon noticed other sounds as well. Ones she wouldn't expect in the middle of an abandoned forest in Germany.

Voices.

"Do I look to be in a gaming mood?"

"You should thank me. With the Bifrost gone, how much dark energy did the All-Father have to muster to conjure you here? Your precious Earth."

.... Shall we call that Cranky One and Cranky Two? Nyneve moved closer, careful to keep traces of her approach hidden. No sound came from her tall black leather boots as she navigated a path across the rocks, for she muffled the sound with a hint of magic. At a heavy metallic thud, her brows rose. Well now. Mention of the Bifrost points toward the Norse legends of Asgard, so... Cloaking her presence, she made her way to the top of the outcropping, finding herself gazing down on two figures. She scanned the area, noting the interesting hammer sitting by itself, obviously set there by its owner.

Likely the cause of that thud. Had I been any closer, damn noise probably would have given me a headache.

Nyneve adjusted her crouched stance to better balance herself on the unstable rocks. When a lone pebble broke free to roll down the slope, she scooped it up in one hand, careful to not throw herself off-balance. She didn't need the stone giving her presence away. Her blue jeans, well-worn and soft, confined her not at all in her movements.

She shifted her gaze to the two men. The blond, with bulky build and armor suggesting a different time and plane, currently held the dark-haired one by the throat. It wasn't a grip meant to harm, simply to hold, piquing Nyneve's curiosity. Making sure they neither saw nor noticed her, Nyneve settled herself to listen to the rest of their conversation. Somehow, her gaze kept drifting back to the one with dark hair and the hurt look in his eyes.

"I thought you dead," said the blond.

"Did you mourn?" Nyneve noted how the other's voice sounded like he was trying to act coldly detached. But there was an underlying note of something else, something which made Nyneve watch him closely as the interaction continued.

"We all did. Our father--"

The dark-haired one held up a finger to stop the blond. "Your. Father."

There's enough masked pain there to tell a story all by itself.

The dark-haired one shoved away the blond's arm while he stood there dejectedly. "He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?" he said as he walked past the blond. With how he favored his lower back, Nyneve had a feeling their landing on the rocky outcropping had probably not been the smoothest.

"We were raised together," the blond finally said.

Nyneve released a breath. This is starting to sound familiar.

"We played together. We fought together," he continued. "Do you remember none of that?"

"I remember a shadow. Living in the shade of your greatness. I remember you tossing me into an abyss. I, who was and should be king." He trailed off, seeming to wonder at the venom in his words and Nyneve noted a change in his eyes. Then, she took in his proximity to her.