Floriography // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter Four: Aconitum

At some point, the woman had fallen asleep. It made riding with her easier as her unconscious sense of balance seemed better than her waking one. Night would fall soon though and that village Lundr would not be within view until tomorrow's midday at this pace.

Loki slowed the horse until it stopped and his head turned over his shoulder looking down at the top of her head that rested against his back. He wondered what her great need in getting to this village was, it outweighed her previous apprehension of him for certain. He did not have to wake the woman. Her head shifted looking up to their surroundings, "We shall rest here." He spoke and her head tilted further up but quickly averted. She squirmed to try and get off the animal, catching on his clothing in her haste she stumbled over landing on her ass with a groan.

He chuckled at the scene. She was likely sore and he would be as well, it had been a while since he rode a horse for this many hours. However, he stepped from the creature with far more grace.

Without a word between them she had taken the horse to tie the reins upon a tree limb and begun gathering wood for a fire. Loki watched. Sitting on the ground against a tree, he crossed one ankle over the other. She would come and deposit firewood, look at him, then collect more. This continued until the pile was sufficient for a night. Digging a small pit with her hands and a larger stick into the hard ground she wiped the mud off on her skirts then set the wood in an arrangement to optimize heat over light. It was when she kept trying to light it and failing that he could not help himself from helping the pathetic being.

He leaned over the pile of wood, catching her curious gaze before he continued, a smile on his face as he used magic to light the sticks. He liked the next expressions she made. The woman at first scowled but then pouted childishly, "Would you like me to blow it out? You can keep trying." He leaned a bit closer to the flames and breathed. They started to die out and she frantically gestured for him to stop. She was cold. He realized as she huddled up closer to the flame.

Poor creatures Midgardians were, cold to something as simple as a light frosting at night. Loki went back to rest against the tree. Closing his eyes he did not truly sleep.

A crunch caused him to open his eyes sometime later, unlike the crackle of the wood falling in from the consuming flames this was a branch being broken in the forest beyond. Magic covered his form. To anything around Loki had just closed his eyes again, resting. Yet, the god stood unseen.

He walked over the woman's sleeping form, eyeing the horse as it snorted staring as if it saw him. Then his gaze turned upon the dark tree line. An arrow passed close to him, striking his double. For a moment he considered letting the double vanish to put fear into the hearts of the men cloaked in the shadows... but, he did like a little trouble after all. He had the double act out as if getting hit. Gasping out which woke the woman.

Her groggy form scrambled to check on him and the bandits in the woods crept closer. One of them had no idea how close he truly was to the god of mischief. Within a breath's distance. He had not expected that woman to try and rip the arrow from his shoulder, her hands passed through the illusion. And she pulled them back with a furrowed brow turning then with fright to the men now within the light of the campfire, "H-Hver heilsar?"

"Haraldur, úlfur Boroeyrr." One of the men spoke up. The leader. Loki watched as this man stalked around while the others were chuckling. Loki was fairly sure that man called himself a wolf of some village, "Það er sanngjarnt að þú segir mér hvað þú heitir, er það ekki?" Loki understood he was asking for their names.

The woman swallowed. Instead of speaking her name, she shrank further than she ever had with him. Her voice was terrified sounding, "Lo... Loki."

"Loki? Ertu að biðja til Loki? Guð vandræðanna. Eða ertu að segja að þessi aumi maður sé þessi guð?" That sounded rather insulting. Even his double seemed annoyed and he caused the illusion to slowly reach up to try and take hold of the arrow, acting out his pain if he were mortal – well he had been shot before like that, there was reference to use.

The few men there had their hands upon their weapons and were jeering taunts towards his double. He did not need to understand them to know that. That leader snatched up the woman by a wrist and her other hand balled up into a fist. He enjoyed watching her slam it against the man's jaw but cringed when she cried from the force. She was not a fighter. He pulled her around like she was nothing bringing her face to his.

The man ran his thumb over the scar on her face and laughed softly, "Eftirlifandi á þessum aumkunarverða stað. Sjáðu til þess að hann hreyfi sig ekki." It was when the man started to drag her towards the flame that she cried Loki's name again like a pleading prayer that the god did something. Moments before her face was pushed into the fire he breathed it out. It startled the superstitious men. They looked around trying to adjust to the sudden darkness, realizing that his double was now missing too causing them even greater panic. The man that had hold of this woman tossed her to the ground taking his axe from his belt he readied it.

Loki considered his options. It was unlikely they'd be frightened of him as a man; did he even want a fight, was he supposed to or allowed to be fighting Midgardians? Odin would disapprove. Loki rolled his eyes hearing the disciplinary speech already. He needed something that would have them fall like children before him. That man had said he was a wolf; then perhaps as a wolf's father would be appropriate to teach the pup.

Magic swelled over him as he recalled a creature from Midgard's somewhat twisted in-translation tales that would certainly bring men to their knees. His own kin, Fenrir. Though smaller than a hut-sized monster he stalked the tree line as a larger black wolf. Glowing green eyes caught their fearful gazes when they heard his growled breathing from beyond the darkness. Once the man who had insulted his name flinched Loki rushed from the woods snarling as a true animal should, snapping down upon the axe handle when the weapon was raised in defense. He could taste the blood grazed from the hand that had once held the weapon, a weapon that was now ripped from his mortal hand. Unlike his illusions this was far more real, he was, in this moment, a deadly wolf. The iron axe shattered in his bite and all that was left was to chase them as they fled. He could promise he'd not hurt a single one any more than this single pup's grazed flesh, well no more than beyond damaging their pride... they easily hurt themselves stumbling in the dark woods even after he had stopped giving chase to return to the woman.

She had been shakily and hastily trying to undo the tied reins of the steed from the tree limb when he stalked back still as a wolf. The horse whined and bucked upon seeing his form, making her back away right into his fur. When she turned she screamed, tripping over herself and putting her hands over her head as if she may be eaten by him. He had not meant to frighten her too.

Letting the magic fall away he returned to the form she had felt comfortable enough to sleep against, himself. Loki leaned down gently lowering her arms away from her head and reaching for her face. He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. Choosing to use a word she would understand, "Fyrirgefðu." Only more tears welled up, spilling out as she grabbed onto his arm and held it against her forehead in comfort.

He did not like Midgardians for being so fragile.