Floriography // A Loki Fanfiction

Coulson's Questions

"Wait." Coulson had interrupted, "This isn't going to turn into some terrible romantic story about how you save a damsel in distress and she falls madly in love with you is it? Because I think I may have left muffins in the oven." The joke about muffins was lost on Loki.

Loki had a habit of pacing a bit when he told stories, so he turned his head toward the man and then went back over to the clear barrier. The barrier that was keeping Loki from tearing out this arrogant man's throat, "I've always disliked those two words, romance and love."

"Is it because no one will bow down and love you?" He was referring to when Loki first encountered the Avengers after getting a crowd to kneel before him. This jab at his pride would be remembered.

"No," He composed himself, no need to act unsightly just yet, "It is because the idea of romance was coined as a modern term when books of frivolous, over-the-top fantasies began to print. Love is not exclusively romantic in the sense of lovers," His head tilted some with a soft smile, "I believe your Midgardian Aristotle put love in the best of terms. I tell this tale in the love of philia, agape, and ludus; not eros."

"I see." Coulson nodded and Loki, while he did take this Midgardian for a more educated individual, he still wondered if the man understood.

As Loki opened his mouth to continue where he left off, Coulson held up his hand and interrupted again, "Actually I have another question before you continue."

Loki rolled his eyes, "What?"

"You said you turned into a wolf?" 'Turned' being the emphasized word.

Perhaps Loki had said too much on that part, he did not need SHIELD knowing all his tricks after all, "I did. Was that all your questions?"

Coulson put his hand down but asked a second part of his question, "So you can shapeshift into a giant wolf, does that mean you can change into anything?" The man seemed to have some knowledge about Loki's mythos. Most Midgardians did even if it was twisted due to time.

"I'm not sure." He started the little white lie.

"You're not sure?"

"I've never tried." That was the truth, he'd never tried turning into 'everything and anything,' but he was certain he could if he so desired.

"Why not?"

"It takes an incredible amount of magic and concentration." Another lie, "Now if you don't have any more questions—"

"I do." Coulson's chipper smile was something Loki was growing to dislike.

Loki sighed, "What now?"

"You said that this was after Asgard supposedly stopped an ice age, how old were you? Surely you weren't..." Coulson held his hand around his hip height and ranged the height value from place to place, "like a teenager or something?"

This was a fine example of a word's meaning being lost in translation, "Your Midgardian sense of time is bound to your fleeting lifespans of less than a century. When I spoke the word 'recently' it holds little value to your sense of it."

"So, you were a teenager."

He had to dumb it down for the man, "I was a younger adult, not much different as I am now."

Coulson nodded and before Loki had a chance to ask if this was finally the final question Coulson spoke again, "One more." At the glare Loki gave, the man smiled a bit wider, "Promise, last one. How come while you're telling me this story only the Asgardians are speaking English? Is there not some Asgardian language you'd have been speaking? And surely you now understand what was being said by us Midgardians after all these years."

That was a decent question, "Yes, while I understand what had been spoken these days, the point of the story is that I did not those years ago. For the sake of your understanding, I am using English translations," A sly smile crept onto his face, "If you'd like I could tell the tale with myself and the others speaking in Asgardian instead."

"Nope, I was just curious. Please continue." Coulson held his hands behind his back and waited silently.

Loki stared. He barely parted his lips expecting this man to cut him off again with yet another question. His eyes narrowed and he drew in breath, "... Three years passed before I returned to Midgard."