Burning Dahlia | A Loki Story

Chapter Two ~ By Chance

Dahlia awoke to the bright morning light assaulting her corneas, driving the headache that sliced through her frontal lobe to pound even harder. I'll never drink again, she groaned inwardly, knowing full well that was a lie and had been the last thousand times she'd said it. Sitting up, Dahlia looked around, deciphering where she was and why, only noticing the goblin child monkeyed around her ankle when she tried to move from the bed.

    "Home," she mumbled, not really talking to anyone nearby as much as assuring herself that was indeed where she was; she'd woken up in enough back alleys to start her day with a reality check. Peeling her sibling off of her leg Dahlia finally stood, stretching to the symphony of her joints crackling and shifting after what she assumed was a very rough night. Walking into the too bright kitchen she nearly moaned, the smell of greasy foods making her realize just how hungry she really was.

    She sat down at the table, watching her mom hum old folk songs while she cooked thick strips of bacon in the same pan as two sunny side up eggs. Her mother turned, giving her ragged looking daughter a cheery smile.

    "I made you breakfast. The grease will help with that hangover, I assure you. You know, you really shouldn't drink like that sweety." Dahlia nearly laughed, the thought of being babied when she was nearly a thousand years old amusing her tired brain. She stifled her giggles, instead digging into the plate of pure grease and egg that her mother put in front of her. "I take it you're not here just to see your dear old family, hm?" her mom questioned, starting another army load of food for the rest of the goblin pack asleep a room over.

    Dahlia took the opportunity to chew, mulling over what exactly she could tell her mother. In the end she decided to just tell the truth, well, part of it. "I'm here on a job. A big one. I wanted to see you guys before I went off to stress myself out with it." She bit the inside of her cheek, realizing this would most likely be the last time she ever saw her family, no matter the outcome of her assassination attempt. Her mother just hummed, analyzing her daughter.

    "Alright then," she mused, stepping across the kitchen to kiss her forehead. "Just stay safe, yeah?" Dahlia met her mother's eyes, seeing the worry that swam in the blue-green irises. She gave a soft smile, standing and hugging her mother tightly.

    "I promise."

~~~

  Soon after breakfast the family parted ways, each person off to individual duties as the children screeched and whooped down the street towards the center of the town for their daily lessons. Dahlia took this quiet time to plan, schematics of the palace she'd snatched from the city library scattered about the bed around her while she studied them. She was so engrossed in her scheming she didn't even hear the man that slipped into the room, nearly jumping out of her skin when he said her name.

    "Oh shit, my bad. I didn't mean to scare you!" His eyes landed on the schematics, eyes roving over the lines and plot points she'd etched into the paper. "What's all this?" he asked inquisitively, about to pick up a map piece when Dahlia smacked his knuckles with her pencil.

    "Nothing. Don't touch." She quickly gathered up her plans and flipped the stack upside down. "What're you doing here?" she asked, the clip in her tone having gone as fast as it'd come. The man just smiled, plopping down beside her on the bed.

    "What? You think I wouldn't come see the great flower of the east village on her return home? I'm insulted." He grabbed his chest in feigned pain, using his other hand to hold against his forehead like he was about to faint. Dahlia chuckled, standing from the bed with her stack of paper which she stuck into her bag. She turned.