Floriography // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter Three: Taraxacum

Loki found himself standing next to Heimdall staring into the vastness of space at the gate of the bifröst. The rest of the nine realms were beyond, out there among the stars and bright nebula gases. The next summer was around the corner for Midgard in the regions they frequented.

"Heimdall," Loki started. The man in question did not turn his gaze away from the vastness but was listening, "Do you recall the last time you sent us to Midgard?"

"I do."

"That village, how does it fair?"

Heimdall did not answer for a long moment and it made Loki turn his head to look at the man, "Their crops failed to survive the winter storms and the fields flooded this spring."

Loki could feel his face turn to one of pity as he looked back out into the vastness. He wondered if he'd yet to be blamed for this as well.

As summer came to the parts of Midgard that would worship them as gods and lavish them, well Thor and other company at least, they descend to the planet. Even Thor thought it a bad idea to go to a village obviously suffering from lack of food. Another new town, this one bigger than the last couple, they merely walked into the center of it and Thor opened his arms wide expectingly. It was humorous to watch as the people seemed to ignore him beyond a few strange glances. Surely, they'd not forgotten the god of thunder, but, maybe they simply did not know him by looks alone anymore.

"Perhaps some thunder will get their attention." His brother mumbled as he held Mjölnir to the skyline. The clouds above darkened and thunder cracked in the skyline after a flash in the clouds above. He did not cause enough weather to harm – he was careful in this, but the sprinkling of rain came nevertheless and some took notice. They whispered to each other in the road and it was not long before Thor received the attention he craved.

Loki did not stay after such a display. He wanted no part in his brother's, kjánaskapur, foolishness this day. Instead, he took a horse from a stable leaving a small sack of precious metals in its stead. Riding the countryside disguised as one of their mortal kin. He followed dirt trails, camped a night under the stars, and simply kept going until he realized where he had ended up. The village with the tall hilly cliffside where the people were working to the bone to restore their fields. He left the horse to eat weeds at the edge of the forest.

The people seemed weary of the traveler that walked their streets, but they had not the time to bother with him should he pose no threat. What he saw were a people on the verge of starvation, unable to help themselves with the pathetic tools at their disposal. In his mind, the odds were stacked highly against them surviving another winter. However, the sudden cheers turned his head. Eyes gazing upon men whom returned with several hunted elk, a couple of foxes, and a barrel of rabbits. He had forgotten these people were not just farmers and hunting would tip the odds in their favor to survive. There was also foraging, he supposed. A group of young women had jogged past him with baskets in their arms full of wild dill.

He trekked from the village limits up the cliffside to the rock he'd sat before. There was no one. He found himself pulling herbs from around the rocky edge of the cliffside to which he piled on the rock and then bound by the stalk of another herb. He set it upon the rock like an offering. His gaze looked out over the village as they continued to celebrate a successful hunt, already flaying the animals to prepare them for smoking. Maybe these humans were not as hapless as he often credited them to be. Loki left the spot to return to the horse.

It had only moved some feet, probably wandering to find a new patch of weeds to nibble down, but it was not his horse's new position that caught his attention. A woman stood at the side of it feeding the horse a handful of dandelions from a basket full of flowery herbs that rest by her feet. She was gently brushing the steed's cheek in a caring manner as she did. He recognized her by the faded scar upon her face when she turned after sensing another's presence. He nearly forgot he was disguised until she smiled warmly, "Fyrirgefðu, er þetta hesturinn þinn?" The first word was an apology, and he knew a word in the rest of it to mean horse.

Loki touched his throat for a moment, his mouth opened without a sound and he gestured outward with that same hand. Playing the mute would keep him from having to respond verbally at least. His head nodded though in the assumption that she had asked if it was his horse.

"Hann er sterkur fákur. Ég þekki þig ekki og þú skuldar mér ekki. Ég verð að biðja þig um greiða ef þú heyrir í mér. Þar sem við eigum enga hesta sjálf. Viltu fylgja mér til Lundr?" That was a bit much for him to understand especially as she did not speak slowly.

He paused picking out words he knew: strong, steed, favor, horse, Lundr. Lundr being the name of a village he had passed on his journey. He walked towards her and was almost surprised she did not shy away from him. His hands took the reins of the beast holding them out towards her, offering them and after a moment of her confused face he gently took her hands then put the reins into hers.

She looked up to him in a sheepish manner, red color coating her cheeks, "Ég... Ég kann ekki að hjóla."

Perhaps it was an informal thank you. It was good enough. Loki would simply return home via the bifröst after she departed. The woman however stood there looking at the reins in deep thought.

He would be the one to leave first then, or he tried, as he did he felt a tug on his clothing and a cautious string of words, "Ymir, Jotun, skaber aser." Like it had become a secret greeting that they could say to one another. His head turned over his shoulder and his eyes downcast at her. Her fingers let go immediately. He did not give these people enough credit in more areas than one it seemed. Loki would not fully understand at this time that he had just given the woman a horse for nothing and while that alone was highly suspicious, the fact that she had mentioned she could not ride such a creature added to the fact that she thought he did not understand her words, even if he looked like her kin.

Loki mulled as if to play it off in some manner but that would be pointless, the jig was up. Magic faded from his form as the disguise melted into the air. She was shocked, nevertheless, not as much as she could have been. Rather he thought the woman looked curiously at him.

"Ég get ekki þegið gjöf frá þér, Loki." She spoke his name, holding the reins back out to him. He knew the words: cannot and gift, in what she said.

He reached out his hand but pushed her own back, "It is no gift."

Did she just huff at him? The woman picked up the basket into the crook of her arm and then to his amusement struggled to get a top the horse. He could not help the smile that cracked on his face even as the woman scooted back as far as she could comfortably then thrust out the reins towards him again, "Ef það eru gjafir sem þú vilt gefa skaltu fara með mig til Lundr."

Was this woman, this mere Midgard mortal, demanding that he take her to Lundr? It was apparent she seemed unsteady on the horse and he realized she must have become red-faced from embarrassment in confessing to him that she could not ride the beast rather than having said a thank you.

He laughed.

Her arm slowly went down, her posture went from commanding to somewhat retreating. Even so, she continued to hold out the reins. Her resolve was commendable. Perhaps he could not sink any lower than this and maybe just a little bit, he was also starved for attention. Loki strode towards the steed, taking the reins from her hand and he carefully mounted the animal to not knock her from it. The woman truly did not know how to ride, she nearly slipped off once they started to go any faster than a trot. His arm caught her, pushing her back into place and they slowed, "You'll have to hold onto me."

She did not react. He thought about the words he would need to have her understand and they felt fleeting. Loki shifted, taking her basket and he felt her resist at first. He was gentle and eventually the woman allowed him to slide it from her arm. With both of her arms now freed she did not hold onto him but rather kept them by her sides. He turned his head over his shoulder and when she looked up at him he made a show of pointing to her arms and a gesture of placing them around his waist. He watched her hesitance. Obeying his unspoken command after a few moments of pause. He handed her the basket to hold again with her arms now around him. Taking the reins he spurred the steed to go faster again and they trotted. She tightened her arms holding onto him for stability.

A couple of hours had passed of them being upon the animal, both the beast and the woman seemed to grow tired. He could feel when her head had begun to press lightly against his back and when she finally gave in to just rest it there. The horse had started to refuse to go faster and was slowing as well. Loki looked down and took a handful of dandelions from the basket. He coaxed the beast with a more magical treat than the weeds alone to continue onward.