Recompense [Fólkvangr End, Book 1] [Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: Okay, okay. Before you all kill me, there is unfortunately no Loki in this chapter. HOWEVER. Beginning with the next chapter, he will feature predominantly for the rest of the story. No worries. There will be plenty of Loki action to satisfy your needs, I assure you. One cannot simply release Loki from prison and redeem him in a heartbeat. That's not how it works. So I appreciate you sticking it out thus far and continuing to support me! Now, onto the chapter! I'm fairly proud of this chapter, and I'd like to hear from you--so comment and vote!

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I am pacing about in the hallway outside the door to Odin’s chamber. My footsteps are echoing so loudly in my own ears I fear it may deafen me. I take a deep breath in and out of my nose and I stand before the door, reaching out for the handle. My fingers twitch and I hesitate. I don’t even have any semblance of a plan or an idea of how to delicately broach the subject with Odin. Maybe this just means that this is not a good plan at all.

I feel a hand on my arm and I gasp as I wheel around to face my assailant.

“Hi!” I breathe out, relieved.

Fandral smiles, “What precisely are you doing?”

“I uh…I’m…I’m not really sure anymore…” I admit and Fandral eyes me curiously. I wish I could know just what it is that he’s thinking when he looks at me like that. He runs his hand down my arm and then wraps his warm hand about mine, pulling my arm gently.

“Well, come along then!” He pulls me away from my spot frozen by the door. I shake my head at him.

“But…but, Odin!”

Fandral stops and looks at me, arching an eyebrow, “Is the Allfather expecting you?”

“Well, no…but--!”

He doesn’t even allow me to finish my utterances of protest, and instead drags me away from the door by the hand. He lets me catch up with him and then his links his arm through mine, assuring that my hand rests on the crook of his elbow. I resist my natural urge to roll my eyes and simply allow him to lead me onwards.

“Where are we going exactly?” I ask, vaguely concerned that he may be kidnapping me. Nah. He would never! Right…?

Fandral smiles, lighting up his hazel eyes, but says nothing. He runs his fingers through his smooth golden hair and looks away as we walk. The silence doesn’t bother me much, though I worry what he may be thinking about me. He seems all fine and well, but considering recent events, I cannot fathom why he would be. He saw me in my Jotun form and yet he does not run from me.

We get to the stables and Fandral gets his horse out and then holds his hand out to me expectantly. I just stare at his now gloved hand—“What?” I ask.

“Come along, then! We are going for a ride, my love,” Fandral winks and I cannot contain my exasperated eye rolling now.

I place my hands on my hips, attempting to assert some authority. Fandral comes closer, but it doesn’t help that he is just about an inch or so taller still. Back home I could have intimidated any boy with height, and that just doesn’t fly on Asgard. “Okay, well, where is my horse?”

He just smiles ever wider, wraps an arm about my waist and drags me to the horse where he promptly manages to throw me into the saddle and then steps up and swings his leg over so that I am sitting in front of him. His legs are warm against my thighs, and his chest is solid against my back. He reaches around me to take the reins and he spurs the golden horse into motion with a turn of his heel. I lean into him a bit, out of sheer terror and because…well, I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to mind, shifting to fit me comfortably between his legs as he rests his chin on my shoulder so he can see. We travel quickly, leaving the palace far behind us. We race through the city, my hair blowing into my eyes and getting caught in my mouth. This is not graceful or elegant or romantic—Hollywood has deceived me.