Loki Imagines

17| Witch

Warning: None
Word Count: 2344 words
A/N: This one deals with a little bit of actual Norse mythology and legitimate witch things (and embellished too) but hope you enjoy! I do not mean to offend any witches out there! ~ July 2, 2021
Timeline: 2011, during Avengers
• • • • •

He had escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. quite easily, and although he had figured he would. The Agents and the so-called Avengers knew he was missing, but he stayed below their radar. He wore his black suit as he strolled through the streets of New York City, occasionally glancing behind him. What was he so worried about? He was a God, and besides, he would be helping all these Midgardians soon.

He had felt an odd presence luring around, and concerned the people of S.H.I.E.L.D. had found him, he turned into the nearest shop. He opened the door rather quickly and pushed inside, locking the door behind him. He peered out the window of the wooden door, noticing not a single person walk by.

"Unlock my door," A voice called from behind. It was light, yet controlling. He smirked, of course, this Midgard would try to control him. Turning, he wasn't expecting to meet such a beautiful woman and was caught off guard. She took a step back, her eyes wide. "How are you here?"

Loki straightened his back, letting go of the door. "You recognize me?"

The girl nearly held her breath and nodded. "Loki, the Norse God of Mischief," She looked at his attire. "Although I did not expect you in a well-tailored suit," He was stunned, his mouth slightly agape. She knew who he was? "Can I get you anything?"

It was now he looked around at the room he stood in finding candles, books, crystals, long wooden sticks of incense, and jars along the wall. He turned back to the woman. "You're a witch? I didn't realize Midgard had them."

She nodded, walking to the back of the room. "Yes, we're here on Midgard, but we often aren't recognized. Most people come into my shop to make fun of it."

The God followed. "And why would they do that?" She shrugged, handing him a small cup of tea with a cinnamon stick in it. He graciously took it, taking a sip. "This is lovey. How did you know cinnamon is my favorite?"

She smirked. "I've learned throughout the years things that all the God's appreciate. Like for example, you love sweets, cinnamon, and apples," A small crystal appeared in her hand. "And although you aren't one for offerings, you do love little things that make people think of you," She handed the crystal to him: black obsidian. "You also appreciate it when people face their fears." He rolled the crystal in his hand, taking another sip of his tea, looking up to her.

"My dear, you are quite good with this. You must be the most skilled witch I've ever met. We're you sent here by Odin or Frigga when Midgard was first being created?" He asked, another sip of the tea taken.

She found herself laughing. "Your highness," The phrase caught him off guard. "I am only twenty-three. I just have learned all of this in the past seven years or so," He squinted his eyes in confusion. Twenty three? That's all? "Would you care to have a chat with me? I have a ton of questions if you don't mind answering them."

He turned back towards the door with a sigh. "I really wish I could, Lady..." He turned to her hoping she'd fill in the blank.

"[Y/N]." She smiled with a slight curtsy.

"Lady [Y/N], my what a beautiful name," He grinned. "I have run into a slight problem. I believe I've made quite a few of your fellow Midgardians angry shortly after my arrival here. I do not want to put you in danger, my dear-"