Loki x transman original character (very much work in progress)

First Meeting

The Asgardian library was a place of wonder and learning, a testament to the greatness of the realm and how much its citizens valued history, knowledge and the arts. When she first stepped inside, a few centuries ago on a school trip, Kristina was stunned by the grand scale of the architecture. Majestic columns reached up to the high ceiling, while intricate murals covered the walls, depicting scenes of grand battles and alliances formed between the realms. She had never seen Odin -the AllFather- in person, but seeing paintings of him at work every day has honestly gotten tedious, though she would never admit that to anyone.

The space was filled with the sounds of hushed conversations and the turning of pages as scholars and explorers navigated the maze of shelves, searching for knowledge. Kristina though, was stuck putting books back in their place, a mind-numbing task but at least it was better than dusting and restoring the millennia old books. Navigating the countless walls lined with polished wood bookshelves, carrying stacks of books of every description, size, and age, that is the way Kristina’s workdays often ended. Today, however, she stayed much longer than she needed to, the gentle hum of conversation and the sound of distant footsteps long had faded but she had no intentions of going home. She didn’t want to. Her mind was too occupied to be bored. Thoughts she wouldn’t dare share with anyone plagued her mind, both the secrecy and the thought of sharing them caused her great sadness. It’s an internal struggle, and she’s finding it hard to continue fighting.

For all its grandeur, the library was the only place she felt any kind of tranquillity. Large picture windows allowed natural, dwindling light to pour in, casting a soft glow over the polished marble floors and sparkling glass chandeliers. The air was thick with the scent of old leather-bound books, various inks and fresh parchment. But home...home was dark, cluttered, clouded in dust and the smell of stews, gruel or whatever else her parents tried to claim as food. Home was also loud, filled with the condescending, constant commands from her unsatisfied parents or the unruly laughter and shouts from her much younger siblings.

But as the darkness quickly started to take over, and her yawning got more frequent, she realised it was finally time to go home. Tidying up her little designated space in the staffroom was the last thing she did before picking up her second-hand cloak. Wrapping it over her humble, plain kirtle, she closed the creaky and heavy, ancient doors and started the journey home.

The library being in the Palace was one of the great benefits of working there, it provided her with a taste of the luxurious, care-free life the royal family have. Not that she cares for wealth or being considered a ‘god’, but the peace of having advisors and so many people that help and care for you certainly does sound appealing. The gardens are gorgeous too, and now that most people are sleeping, she decided to take a detour through them. She can’t get in trouble if no one sees her, right?

Wrong. She bumped into the most unexpected person possible, Loki.

Rounding a corner of the living hedge walls, she’s instantly met with the second Prince standing mere feet in front of her, dressed in a luxurious tunic embroidered with golden threads. She doesn’t have time to register the fact that he's much more handsome up close than everyone makes him out to be, as he’s holding a terrifyingly beautiful dagger at her. There was a heavy scent of alcohol in the air, and he certainly looked drunk, but as she stood there literally frozen in shock, all he did was scowl. He recognised her, she’s not a threat, most of the staff in the Palace aren’t, but he did hate how a commoner seems to have a much more care-free life than him, the Prince. It’s not exactly fair, is it? Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he concealed his dagger among his clothes once again.

“Oh, it's just you. What are you doing here this late? Don’t tell me someone like you was invited to my dear brother's little party?” Speaking sarcastically, he waved his hand dismissively while taking a swig from his flask with the other, not even looking at her anymore. “Whatever, go back to it, I am not in the mood for talking with the help.”

“Party?” The young woman in front of him mumbled, finally getting over her astonishment and managing to bow her head slightly in respect. “I don't know of any parties; I'm just passing through. Didn't mean to disturb you, sir.”

Upon hearing her words, Loki gave out an amused scoff, eyeing her from head to toe with a disdainful smirk. Sure, he recognized her presence from the Palace's library, perhaps a helpful hand to the scholars. However, her weakness and seemingly simple life were things he deeply envied. He considered it a foolish, cruel twist of fate, that a mere commoner was unburdened when he was plagued with not only his princely duties, but his internal and private struggles too.

“Not aware of the damn party, really? Pity,” he gripped his flask, tilting it backwards for another heady drink, the vile taste of the strong brew doing little to lift his simmering resentment. "Because that's all this hellhole of a realm is ever concerned about. Parties and feasts, all in honour of my 'Perfect' Brother's so-called achievements!" he spat, as venom seeped into his words.

“For someone 'not in the mood for talking', you sure are doing a lot of it.” Kristina murmured, not really intending to be rude but the fatigue of the long day was starting to catch up to her. Loki took a moment, his eyes narrowed as they scanned her plain, innocent form, smirking with the delight of someone who was about to pluck a flower just to see it whither in his hands. He refused to be the only one hurting tonight, and it looks like he’s just found his perfect victim.

"Just what is it you're doing here anyway? Are you lost, little girl, or trying to plot something against me?" His tone was accusatory, his green gaze intense and unsettling. The Garden of Solitude was his domain, he resented any interruption, especially one in the form of a naive girl. His tall figure loomed over her small frame as his sneer deepened. She didn't seem intimidated by him though. As he called her 'little girl' he could see her smile fade, revealing something... Sadder. But she quickly hid it under another falsely sweet smile.

“I'm not lost, sir, just... Taking a walk outside before bed, the stars are good company.”

Upon hearing her retort, Loki was a bit taken aback. He honestly didn't expect her to talk back let alone boyishly belittle his frustrations. His eyes widened for a mere second before he immediately reverted to his annoyed scowl. He noticed her brief change of expression, something underneath her veil of sweetness unravelling. It piqued his curiosity, but he shrugged it off for now. "Hm. Interesting," he remarked, taking a moment to glance up at the sparkling expanse of the Asgardian night sky. He'd always been drawn to it, fascinated. A mirror to his own complexities, he supposed.

"Stars are good company, are they?" he echoed. The corner of his mouth twitching slightly into an amused smirk. "Well, can't disagree with that. They're quiet, don't meddle, don't annoy you... They simply exist, shining from afar yet never reaching out. They're absolute fuckin' legends at being indifferent," he asserted, turning his gaze back on the woman before him, his tone full of bitter jest.
"But this late at night, you should be curled up in your bed, dreaming of fairies and unicorns or whatever it is that library maidens hold fancies to."

Once again, that faint twitch of sadness flickered across her face as he calls her 'maiden.' There's clearly something troubling her, but she didn't look like she's going to open up to him at all, in fact, she looked highly uncomfortable.
“Nothing's troubling me, just getting some fresh air... But I'll head back now and leave you to your... Drinking.”

Seeing the minuscule trace of sadness in her eyes, Loki couldn't help but feel a pull of intrigue. The girl now appeared to have some hidden depth, her facade fading. "Drinking, huh?" Loki mused, once again raising his flask and eyeing it with a mocking detachment. With a thin smirk curving his lips, he looked back at her, raising an eyebrow. "I'm glad to see you notice my finer hobbies. However, are you quite sure about your well-being, darling?" His tone was anything but sincere as he drawled on, stepping dangerously forward. "Cause the way you're staring at me rather suggests that something's bugging your simple mind. Or perhaps it's just the need to fill your mundane life with some royal troubles?"

Loki chuckled pompously, finding joy in penetrating the girl's calm exterior. After all, chaos and mischief were part of his very nature. Not just the tricks and pranks, but the more subtle kind, the one that would ruffle feathers, poke at one's comfort zone and draw out the hidden vulnerability from where it hid. "But if you want to leave, by all means, go ahead," Loki gestured towards the way back, uncaring, yet his eyes were still watching her, calculative, curious. "It's not like I need anyone's company, anyway. Do take care though, wouldn't want the ferocious beasts of the night to mistake you for some helpless damsel."

“Enjoy the rest of your night, sir...” Kristina mumbled as she turned to walk away, her words hardly holding the respect they should towards him.

Loki felt an unexpected pang in his chest as the young woman in front of him, typically brimming with life, seemed to wilt like a plucked flower, her shoulders drooping and the usual glow in her eyes dimming. He barely caught the inflectionless way she bid her goodbye, her tone matching her fallen spirit.

"Wait!" he called out before he could stop himself, his hand instinctively reaching out towards her. "Truth is...I could...use some company. My tongue may be sharp, but my ears are all yours. And I promise that this-" he waved his flask, alcohol inside sloshing loudly "-will not interrupt us."

His voice was notably softer, and his gaze no longer bore the gleam of amusement. Instead, it carried a rare weight of sincerity, his tailored arrogance momentarily subdued. Beneath all the chaos, pranks and lies, Loki was no stranger to solitary nights and saddened eyes. "Just...stay. Let's enjoy the stars' silence together." His last sentence was barely more than a whisper, almost drowned out by the night's serene hum. But he had uttered it, breaking his own barriers. For once, the Prince of Deceit was being honest and reaching out, not to cause havoc, but to mend an invisible wound.

After a few moments of just staring at his hand on her arm, unsure of how to feel about the unexpected physical contact, she sighed. “Fine. Prince's orders, right?” Kristina reluctantly moves to sit on one of the expertly carved, stone benches and looked up at the stars, clearly not happy that she was asked to stay. “Just don't call me a little girl again... Because I'm not.”

Her reluctant compliance brought a smug smirk back onto Loki's lips, his icy green gaze glinting under the soft glow of the ethereal moon. "Ah, see? You're not so dim-witted after all," he toasted her with a mock salute of his flask before neatly stowing it away into his robe. At her final statement though, he paused. 'Not a little girl', huh? Interesting. Her prolonged evasion of his gendered language surely held some significance. He looked at her for a moment, scrutinizing...then nodded.

"All right. I won't," he agreed swiftly, his voice dropping a few notches. A surprise to anyone who knew the Trickster well enough. Conceding wasn't really his most favoured course of action. But if anything, Loki was adaptable.
"Then tell me, what should I refer to you as? Or would you prefer being addressed by your name?"
Plopping himself down on the opposite end of the bench, Loki slouched comfortably against the hard stone, legs splayed wide in an unprincely manner. Keeping a respectful distance, his guarded eyes were trained on the twinkling constellation above, offering her a semblance of privacy.

In truth, Loki sensed a hint of kinship with this seemingly insignificant commoner. Much like him, she too seemed to carry a mantle she didn't want, forced to play a role that didn't belong to her. For the first time, the God of Mischief considered that he might relate to someone, that maybe others are going through similar things that he is.

“My name's Kristina.” she spat out the word as if it was poison leaving a nasty taste on her tongue. Hearing her own name fall from her lips in such a viscous tone didn't go unnoticed by Loki. A reaction far from the norm for one uttering their own identity. It left him with an even more curious inkling about the true story hidden behind her sweet facades. After a little while of awkward silence, she sighed, her gaze falling to her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Surely you'd rather go to that party you were talking about than spend time with a commoner?”

"Well... Kristina," he began, noticeably dragging out each syllable as if testing the sound for himself. "I believe you're underestimating my disdain for mindless celebrations." His emerald eyes flickered down towards her fidgeting hands before returning to the stars above. He couldn’t help but to compare them to his own feelings. That feeling of discomfort, unease, the feeling of rejection from one's own image, one's own identity.

"I've always found these silly parties to be a tedious affair," he drawled, a saccharine sarcasm colouring his words. "A flaunting spectacle of hollow merriment and pointless flattery, activities hardly to my taste." Leaning back, he stretched his long legs before him, crossing them at the ankles. His posture emanated nonchalance, whilst his sharp gaze held an unusual calm alongside his words.

"As for your 'mere commoner' comment, I beg to differ. 'Mere' suggests something common, something ordinary," his smirk returned at this, a familiarly sardonic note making its way into his voice. "And the evening's proceedings so far hardly painted you as either of those. Call it a trickster's intuition, but I reckon there's more to you than what meets the eye." Leaning towards her slightly, he looked back at her, the shifting moonlight casting playful shadows on his chiselled features. "You could always prove me wrong though."

Kristina sighed, but remained silent, looking up at the stars once again. She didn't look as relaxed as him, it's like she's using the stars as an excuse not to look at him, not to make eye contact. Observing the muted girl, Loki's inherent frustration bubbled underneath his calm demeanour. He loathed mysteries that were out of his grasp. Additionally, her stubbornness to keep herself withdrawn was grating on his nerves and ego.

"Asgard's crown, you're stubborn," he muttered exasperatedly, his gaze lingering a tad too long on her face. He was used to reading people swiftly, discerning their motivations, and manipulating them as he pleased. But this small woman with her starry gaze and guarded silence intrigued him. A humble enigma—shrouded in mystery yet laid bare in front of his eyes.

"Lying under the stars, quietly appreciating the serenity, sounds terribly romantic, doesn't it?" Loki remarked casually, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He stretched, his fingertips brushing against the overgrown hedge behind the bench as he let out an exaggerated sigh of contentment. "But I must say, your silence isn't helping the mood, Kristina. It's called conversation, not solitary contemplation." His words carried a teasing drawl, but his green eyes held an unspoken challenge. "Some might even consider it rude to give your prince the cold shoulder."

He then turned to face her, his cheek resting upon his knuckles, as a knowing smirk flirted upon his lips. "Are you always this quiet or am I just strikingly intimidating?" His tone could easily be mistaken for arrogance, but there was a subtle hint of vulnerability echoing behind his projection that dared to be noticed.

For a few awkward moments, it seemed like Kristina was not going to answer him, but just as Loki considered offering her his flask to loosen up her tongue a little, she answered quietly, her voice quavering. “You asked me to stay and 'enjoy the stars' silence together', not to stay and engage in conversation.”

Loki’s sharp eyes caught movement, his gaze narrowing as he recognized the glimmering trail of a tear falling from her eyes. An unexpected development. He felt his heart clench at the sight, surprising himself.
"Alright, Odin's beard," he let out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and letting his gaze return to the star-blanketed sky. "Since when did the annoyingly happy bookworm turn into such a damned touchy individual?" he muttered, not really expecting an answer. It was more of a statement to himself as he mentally re-categorized her.

"I'm not used to...this," he admitted, his voice softer than he would have liked. He scrubbed a hand over his face, looking for the right words. "I mean, the whole...consolation gig? Not really up my alley, but...fuck."
He shook his head and stood up, his tall figure cutting an intimidating silhouette against the night sky. He passed a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts.

"Just...just breathe, alright?" he suggested, turning away from her, yet his eyes traced every subtle movement she made. The God of Mischief, for once in his life, felt completely out of his depth. He wasn't equipped to deal with sadness, especially not from someone he unintentionally reduced to tears. A strange, soft guilt gnawed at the recesses of his heart. But as always, he hid it beneath a veneer of nonchalant indifference.

“I'm not after consolation... And if I was, you're doing a pretty horrible job at it.”

Loki can't help but snort out a chuckle at her audacious comment. His eyes flicker towards her, his gaze meeting her tear-streaked face. There was something truly exquisite about this moment. His lips twitched at the absurdity of it all. "You reckon I'm doing a terrible job, huh?" he drawled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Here I thought I was the epitome of compassion."

Wiping away her tears, Kristina chuckled lightly, but the sound is void of happiness, meant purely to distract him not convey her joy. “Don't worry... I'm not crying because of something you did or said.” For the briefest of moments, Loki’s facade of indifference faltered, the small yet sincere smile transforming his usually cold expression into something genuinely warm. Hearing her reassuring words lifted an invisible weight off his chest, one he hadn't even known he'd been carrying.
"I'd say that's a relief, but honestly, it just adds to the mystery," he remarked playfully, leaning against a nearby tree. "But you've got your secrets...like everyone else."

His voice softened as he mused aloud, his vibrant green eyes sparkling with something akin to understanding, his signature smirk slipping back into place. He knew all too well about keeping secrets. "Tell you what," he continued, raising an eyebrow. "Not really one for sharing tender emotions or fucking sob stories, but if you ever feel like you need to vent, or just want someone to... listen," he almost grimaced at the unfamiliarity of the word, "I'm...here. After all, the company of stars aren't close to a good conversation. Just promise not to get too accustomed to this side of your humble prince." The hint of sincerity underlying his teasing words was rare, something Loki had never extended to another being, save his dear mother Frigga. But maybe, just maybe, he reckoned, this peculiar girl might be worth letting his guards down.

“'Humble'?” she scoffed playfully, the first time she's really talked without thinking in their conversation. “If you're humble, then I'm the fucking king of Midgard.” Her smile instantly faded, mentally scolding herself for speaking without thinking. Her sudden choice of title did not escape Loki's keen observation. His smile softened, becoming something more understanding as his gaze turned thoughtful. Could it be that...?  Loki wasn't one to jump on assumptions, but patterns; patterns were something he could follow, something he could work with.

"King, is it?" Loki chuckled, catching onto her abrupt slip, his eyebrows raising in mild amusement. A subtle hint in the otherwise unnatural softness of his gaze suggested something more akin to understanding. His mind began to weave together the odd reactions she had given throughout the night in response to specific gendered language. The stars seemed to gleam a little brighter overhead as realisation washed over Loki, a sense of understanding that came from centuries of questioning his own place in the vast universe.

"Trust me, darling, those Midgardians wouldn't know a decent fuckin' king if they saw one," he lowers himself back onto the bench, giving her an approving nod. "So, I'd say you've got a better shot than you might think."
His words were an open invitation for her to respond, to reveal what her own words had only subtly suggested. A gentle nudge wrapped up in his usual bluntness, for he saw no use in avoiding the unchanged reality.
"After all, a king isn't made by the sceptre he carries, but by the people who stand by him," Loki mumbled, almost thoughtfully, "Or should I say...her?" His last words quietly echoed into the night, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them. Through all his lies and deceptions, if Loki had learned one thing, it was to not hide from one's true self, no matter how mercilessly the world around them tried to smother it.

She looked at him for the first time in a while, her eyes searching his for something, understanding, perhaps? Acceptance? After a little while, Kristina finally breaks the silence with a mumble that is only just audible.

“Him.”

The word, softly spoken yet beautifully clear, echoed in Loki's ears, marking a quiet but significant confession. His searching gaze fell on the young man now sitting beside him, his heart swelling with an unexpected sense of pride in his moment of self-acceptance. "Him it is then," he affirmed, a gleam of respect buried deep within his emerald eyes.

He watched as a faint, sincerely joyful smile replaced the former strain on his face, and for once, saw him. Truly saw him for who he was, minus the facade, minus the pretence - a simple being, brilliant and brave in his own right. The sight was remarkably refreshing, proof that not all battles needed swords and magic. Still, Loki couldn't help the smirk that graced his face, "You might need to work on your baritone though, and perhaps grow a beard. Although, the men of Midgard seem to lean towards clean-shaven kings nowadays."

His words were playful, a bouncier flicker in his tone. After all, this wasn't the place nor time for seriousness. This was a moment of bold truth and acceptance, and God knew they were far and few between in one’s lifetime. Yes, Loki decided, he quite admired this being before him. His courage wasn't of the battlefield but of the heart - a kind Loki was all too familiar with. "However, if there's any annoying deciding to be done about appearances or anything else, it's yours and only yours to make, King...," he bowed slightly from his seat, feigning the mannerisms of a loyal subject, lending the moment a bit of humour it was in dire need of. "Shall I address you as Kristian, then?"

Loki extended an olive branch, a rare offering of silent support. The Trickster knew all too well the merciless struggles and cruel battles one had to face when it came to gender and just identity in general. And for that, he offered his support.

The young librarian takes a few moments to think about the name, eventually turning to face Loki again, his smile only uncontrollably growing larger, the joy of being accepted overwhelming his heart and even threatening tears. “I'd like that... Thank you. For everything.”

Loki's lips curled up into a genuine smile, a rare occurrence in these days, as he noticed Kristian's blooming satisfaction and joy. "Now, that's the spirit," he replied, giving him an approving nod. "It was about time I saw some actual backbone in you."

His voice carried a hint of playful mockery, but his words were cloaked in utmost respect. The sight of the young man momentarily brought a touch of warmth to his cold heart. The way his lips stretched into a wide, uninhibited smile was infectious, pushing Loki's own smirk into a tender smile. "And as for the thanks, no need for it," he shrugged. "As irritating as you common folk are, it's... interesting to see one standing tall with such courage."

Loki then turned his gaze back to the vast night sky, yet there was a softness remained in his gaze, a stark contrast to his usually sharp and sarcastic facade. He seemed unusually comfortable and at ease, a sight rarely seen in the trickster. "Now, shall we continue our silent celebration under the stars? Or do you wish to partake in any other... idiotic traditions like making wishes or some nonsense such as that?" he smirked, giving him a teasing glance, his familiar devil-may-care attitude casually making its way back. But behind it all, the sincerity in his eyes never faded. In the boundless galaxies unfolding above them and between silhouettes hidden in shadows, a fragile bond was created. One of understanding, of empathy.

As the comfortable silence continued, Kristian couldn't help but let the joy he felt control his actions and make him a little bold. He shuffled a little closer, resting his head on Loki's shoulder. “Don't suppose you could share some of that shape-shifting magic of yours, could ya?”

Loki stiffened at the sudden intimacy. His heart pounded in his chest and his eyes shot open wide. It was a rare moment to see the God of Mischief off guard, to see him vulnerable. He glanced at Kristian from the corner of his eye, taking note of the trusting expression on his face, before he finally uttered a chuckle and relaxed. "Ah, the audacity. Comfortable, are we?" His tone was half teasing, half intrigued.

Loki allowed himself a moment to adjust to the close contact, taking a quiet breath before turning towards him, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "As much as I'd love to offer you such a convenience, the magic of shapeshifting isn't one to be passed on, I'm afraid," Loki began, his tone laced with soft regret. "It's in my blood, my heritage. Not a mere spell to be taught." He ceased his speech, locking his gaze with Kristian’s, his tone filled with a promise. "But I can help you. I won't change you, because really, there's nothing about you that needs to be changed. But if you ever need to confide in someone, or need help dealing with this... uncultured realm, you can always reach out to me."

Unexpectedly, Loki stretched out his hand, offering the first sign of genuine friendship he had ever given, a rare sight. "Don't disappoint me, Kristian," he warned, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "After all, even I enjoy having a worthy rival around." His words were a playful jab, his tone jesting but eyes kindling with interest. "Being the only intelligent being in this realm is dreadfully boring, at the very least you should continue to be an interesting distraction."

“'Distraction'?” Kristian chuckled, placing his small hand in Loki's outstretched one, blushing slightly at the contact. “Am I invading the great Prince's thoughts now? What a scandal that would be, Loki of Asgard, fawning over a little peasant that works in the palace library.”

Loki couldn't help but smirk devilishly as Kristian joined their hands, a spark of pride glowing in his emerald eyes. "Fawning over? You give yourself too much credit, darling." His tone held a mere tease as he laughed, a deep and genuine rumble that echoed throughout the serene garden. "If anything, you're starting to sound delusional. But dreams, they do help one survive, don't they?"
He squeezed Kristian's hand with a sense of camaraderie he hadn’t experienced in a long time, letting their clasped hands rest between them. "Well then," Loki declared, sitting upright once again and lifting his chin in playful defiance. "Let them talk. The scandal... might even be worth it."

Despite his glib exterior, the sentiment of his words was palpable, dancing in his eyes. Loki had never been the one to express himself openly or seek companionship, especially not from a ‘peasant’. But once in a blue moon, his moon – he found himself in an unfamiliar territory where he might even say the friendship would be a breath of refreshing change. "Keep distracting me then, library boy." He winked, squeezing Kristian’s hand again before releasing it. "I might not fawn over it, but entertainment? Surely that wouldn't hurt every now and then." Loki then leaned back onto the bench, stretching his long legs out in front of him once more. His gaze returned to the twinkling canvas of the night sky, his fingers tapping a faint rhythm on the stone seat. The new comfort in their companionship was evident, their now broken barriers a testament to the stormy evening that had turned into a pleasingly serene night. Nonetheless, Loki hadn't lost his edge for excitement. Nothing ever piqued his curiosity like a good challenge, and it seemed, in Kristian, he had found an interesting one.

Feeling the young man’s intense stare out of the corner of his eyes, Loki turned his attention back to Kristian. His gaze was curious, pupils seemingly larger in the moonlight, giving them an eerie luminesce. Kristian’s quiet contemplation, his scrutinizing gaze, made Loki feel oddly vulnerable. However, rather than feeling defensive, Loki found it amusing. "Are you examining me for your personal records?" His voice was teasing yet held a hint of curiosity. He propped himself up on his elbow, turning his gaze fully to the young man seated beside him. "Whatever are you looking at with such magnified attention? Do I have something on my face? A remaining tear?" He swiped a finger over his cheek, smiling sardonically. "Or perhaps my handsome face has rendered you speechless?" His words echoed with amusement as he jabbed at him playfully. The silence was uncharacteristic of their exchange, and Loki felt a strange impulse to fill it. After all, he was the master of words, and he'd be damned if he allowed some silence to intimidate him.

“You called me library ‘boy’...” Kristian muttered; his words quiet with vulnerability but also an odd euphoria that he struggled to accept. “Without even thinking about it.”

In that brief moment, Loki's usual playful demeanour stalled, the magnitude of his own words echoing in his ears. He watched as Kristian's face brightened, pure joy radiating from him through a cloud of newfound vulnerability. The God of Mischief understood the significance of a single word, especially one pertaining to someone's identity. "Indeed, I did," Loki finally responded, his voice softer, carrying an uncharacteristic gentleness. "And I will continue to do so."

At that moment, the supposed God of Chaos, found himself in an unfamiliar territory - one where he wasn't causing havoc, but rather comforting a stranger. Despite the nonchalance he portrayed, Loki felt a strange warmth creep up his chest at the sight of Kristian's shy elation. "You feared the world wouldn’t accept who you truly are; believe me, Kristian, I understand that better than anyone else. However," Loki shifted slightly closer, his emerald gaze held steady, beckoning, "I'd rather befriend a brave librarian boy than a sad librarian maiden."

His words hung in the air like magic dust, shimmering with sincerity and understanding. For the first time, Loki saw himself not as a prince, not as an outcast, but as a potential friend. And from the glint in Kristian’s eyes, it was evident that the young man felt the same.

“I don't know what to do with myself...” Kristian murmured, stumbling over his words a little, his eyes glistening with tears that he’s barely unable to hold back. “I... I've never felt so... Happy.”

Taking note of the vulnerability playing in the young man's voice, Loki found himself dealing with a conflicted sense of accomplishment and concern. It was indeed a rare sight witnessing this resilient being shed the shackles of his past and begin embracing his true identity. He watched as the usually lively eyes became glassy with unshed tears, reflecting worlds of raw emotions. It was strangely beautiful, very... human. "Then don’t 'do' anything," Loki spoke slowly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. Words, after all, were his weapon and he knew how to wield them skilfully. "You don’t have to immediately act upon every emotion or change. Sometimes... it's okay to just feel."
He shifted subtly, crossing one leg over the other in an unconscious display of relaxed poise. Loki then turned to fully face Kristian, the captivating shift of green hues in his eyes mirroring moonlit waters of night seas.

"And as far as feeling 'happy' goes, well, I find it to be quite overrated anyway," His voice carried a sing-song edge, his eyes dancing with amusement. Anything to lighten the mood again. "But I must admit, the look suits you quite well." His lips fractionally twitched upwards, a rare genuine smile that held promises of words left unspoken. Yes, Loki decided, he had a peculiar fondness for this brave soul.

“It's not overrated,” Without warning, Kristian leans into Loki, pulling him into a tight embrace and mumbling against his shoulder. “It's the best feeling in the whole damn world. It feels like my heart's going to explode... And it's all because of you. I can't thank you enough.”

The sudden warmth enveloping him caught Loki off guard, his form stiffening instantaneously at the unexpected contact. This was closer than he'd ever let anyone, close enough to bypass his impenetrable walls and touch him somewhere deep. Unfamiliar yet not quite unwelcome. "No need for such dramatic gestures, library boy," His tone was light, trying to shrug off the sudden emotional tug he felt inside. But within him, something stirred. It was foreign, yet somehow instinctively right... a feeling of warmth, something strikingly human.

He subtly patted Kristian’s back, providing him the needed comfort while masking the unfamiliar storm brewing inside him. "And I hope you realise, you're the reason behind your own happiness." Despite his dismissive words, his hand didn't leave Kristian's back. He felt the young man’s emotions pouring out in waves and against better judgment, Loki silently offered support. A role he was unused to playing. It was strange, yet oddly fulfilling.
"However," His lips quirked up into a smirk, the familiar teasing tone returning as he leaned back, breaking the hug, "Don't you dare credit me for your sentimental breakdown, library boy. I'm already the subject of enough scandalous rumours without adding 'inspiring life-changing emotional discoveries' to the mix." His amused words echoed in the silent night, trying to bring back the light-hearted banter that had been interrupted. Yet, hidden beneath his teasing expression lied an unspoken promise of patience and understanding. This confused feeling of camaraderie was new to Loki, yet he found himself savouring each moment for the unexpected value it held.

“Do you ever just let yourself have a serious conversation?” Kristian pulled away from the hug reluctantly but remained close to Loki on the bench. “You don't always have to hide behind teasing, jokes and banter. It won't kill you to open up a little. Hell, it might even make me fall for you more than I already have.” His words hung in the air between them, a potent confession that left Loki stunned.

Loki’s lips parted to retort, as was his nature, but he found himself utterly speechless. "You... You what?" Despite his composure, his voice came out as a whisper, his sharp emerald eyes widened in disbelief. Amusement was momentarily replaced by pure shock. He froze as Kristian's face turned a deep crimson, confirming his sagging suspicion. It was a strange sensation, his heart pounding erratically against his chest, his mind buzzing with a thousand unsaid words.

"And you accuse me of avoiding serious conversation," he finally managed to speak, a sense of uncertain yet enticing thrill coursing through his veins. "Quite a crafty move, if I may say so. And, here, I was under the impression that commoners were supposed to be predictable..." His heart raced as he chuckled nervously; his gaze locked with Kristian's. For the first time, Loki Odinson found himself captivated, stunned and, dare he say, flattered. "But..." He visibly hesitated, a soft blush dusting his cheeks, an unusual sight indeed. "Well, it's...not entirely the worst thing in the world.”

He gave a meaningful glance towards Kristian, his expression whispering of undiscovered truths and newfound emotions. The playful facade was momentarily dropped, revealing the vulnerable side of the God of Mischief, the side unwilling to exhibit any strong feelings yet unable to suppress them, a side only Kristian had gotten a glimpse of. And for once, Loki left the words unsaid, letting his vibrant eyes express what his sharp tongue wouldn't.

“That's good to hear.” As Kristian stared into Loki's eyes, trying to understand his unsaid emotions, he couldn't help but let his gaze fall to Loki's lips. It only lasted for a few seconds before he reluctantly looked away from Loki's face all together, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Perhaps we should call it a night... Before any more secrets get spilled.”

Loki caught Kristian’s wayward stare with a raised brow, his heart thumping erratically at the silent longing he saw flickering in the depth of his eyes. A surge of warmth spread through him, a sensation he denied to acknowledge. At least, for now. His gaze followed Kristian as he averted his gaze, sensing the sudden tension between them. "Yes, it seems tonight has already seen its share of confessions." He pushed away from the bench, rising to his feet, the moonlight casting long shadows over his figure. "I fear another secret might just end up causing more trouble than it’s worth." Loki’s gaze then met Kristian's hesitant one, his usually mischievous green eyes now softened with affection, a sight few were privy to. "Goodnight, Kristian," he spoke, placing the slightest emphasis on Kristian’s chosen name, cherishing the intimacy it held. With that, Loki turned a smooth heel, leaving behind the quiet serenity of the garden, filled with raw confessions and shared understandings. But he took much more with him that night - A secret friendship, a budding affection, and the implode of emotions Kristian had unwittingly awakened. And as Loki vanished into the darkness, he felt an unfamiliar pull in his heart, a sensation he'd come to recognise as longing. 'Perhaps people aren't completely intolerable' - he mused. Little did he know, the night's revelations were just the beginning of the chaotic emotional journey that awaited them both.