Floriography // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter Five: Bellis Perennis

The woman had fallen from the horse, not once but twice as they rode the next morning, and he could not stand it. It was slowing them down. He lifted her much to her distress to sit in front of himself upon the steed. Using his arms like barriers to prevent it from occurring again. He could tell she was uncomfortable whenever he looked down at her. Loki considered getting off the horse, tying her to it and just slapping it off in the direction it needed to go. He fought the urge. He reminded himself he would not be the god of pettiness, nor should he gain any more unwanted titles than he already had.

He looked whenever she shifted, her hand currently was stroking the steed's neck gently whispering to it, "Þú hlýtur að hafa verið hræddur líka. Svo hugrakkur hestur að þú hleypur ekki í burtu." Something about calling the horse brave. Probably for not having run off that night.

It was driving him a bit mad that she could whisper to the horse and it was probably more likely to understand her than they would each other. He let out a sigh and she froze, lifting her gaze to him for only a moment before she shifted to sit upright and put her hands in her lap clutching the basket of herbs tightly.

"Of old was the age when Ýmir lived. Out of Ymir's flesh the earth was created," he found it strange to try and sing this so it simply came out more poetic than that of song. He had her attention though, "Ginnungagap, Niflheim, Muspelheim. Fire, ice, drops are falling. Ymir, Jotun, creates the Aesir."

He felt her draw in a deep breath before holding a steady note, "Ár var alda þar er Ýmir bygði," her eyes were closed and would not see him smile, "Ór Ymis holdi var jörð of sköpuð. Ginnungagap, Niflheim, Muspelheim. Ild, is, dråber falder. Ymir, Jotun, skaber aser." Perhaps they could communicate better than he thought. What came next from her was not song, "Fyrirgefðu að ég var hrædd við þig, Loki." An apology for being fearful of him. She had opened her eyes but they stayed to the dirt below them.

He looked ahead to the road. This is what he wanted though, was it not? The reason he kept coming with Thor on these trips to Midgard. Loki admitted to himself that he liked the attention when he wanted it. The unconditional worship of the Midgardians, he wanted it... in truth, he'd rather them not fear him. Some part of him liked when she had called out his name as a prayer another part detested the context it happened in. Why could he not have the simplicity that Thor received? A showering of gifts. He knew the answer to that but did not like it.

Lost in his thoughts he did notice something suddenly touching his ear. His eyes flickered down to the woman, she was reaching up at him tucking one of the herbs behind his ear. At his gaze she had stilled but when he said not a word and lifted his hues back to the road ahead she continued. She did not want gifts from him yet she gave him gifts of herbs every time they met.

Once they reached the very outskirts of Lundr something began troubling the woman again. She was fidgeting, making it difficult for him to focus on the road. He slowed the horse, "What." He asked flatly. Did she have to pee?

Although she may not have known the word his meaning translated clearly, "Það myndi valda miklum vandræðum að sjást ríða með guði, hvað þá guði lyganna."

He took a moment. He was unsure but knew she was speaking about trouble and him in the context of being a god. Oh. Loki believed he may understand given the situation. He breathed deeply and waved a hand in front of his face. Before her eyes, he was no longer Loki the God of Mischief, he was now a boring villager on a horse. She was staring. He could not help himself but to smile slyly and bring a finger to his lips.

They rode into the village and gained stares as a tight-knit community would do. However, much like his other experiences, the villagers paid no further heed if they presented no threat. There was something else taking much of their attention from the pair anyhow. And he narrowed his eyes when he saw an annoying blonde Asgardian performing a drinking contest with Volstagg outside a mead hall. Loki rubbed his forehead.