Loki X Reader || Girl With The Gold Earring

3 | Alyss's House

Now that the wind has run out of puff and the rainclouds have wrung themselves dry, Alyss' footsteps are audible from outside as she bolts over the floorboards to answer the door.

When her eyes rise to meet Loki's, green and glittering in the lamplight, her face turns ashen.

"...Are you a draugr?"

Loki chuckles. "I'd say I'm more of a gjenganger, seeing as I'm not here to seek revenge. I'm more interested in a dry bed and perhaps some breakfast if you'd be so kind."

Poor Alyss blinks up at him blankly, and he glances at Y/N regretfully for help.

"He's not dead, Alyss," Y/N sighs, elbowing Loki hard in the ribs---well, he's so tall her pointy bone lands more in the region of his stomach. "He's just an idiot."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Your Highness. It's just, you fell from so high up I thought no man...but obviously you did, thank the gods." It takes her a moment but, stiffly, she manages to bend into a bow. "An'... I'm sure you're...not stupid." 

He waves a hand. "Oh, I most certainly am. You just saw me jump off a cliff."

Not knowing what to say to that, Alyss turns around, gesturing shyly for them to follow. "Like I said to Y/N, you can stay here long as you need. Them guards shouldn't find you, they already searched everyone's houses earlier."

Like the outside, the inside of Alyss' house is narrow, high-ceilinged, and mostly wood, intricate little carvings spiralling down bannisters and lining skirting boards. Built to offer shelter from the cold, and comfortable enough to sit out the frigid winters, it's stacked with more rooms than one would need and, awaiting Y/N's arrival, Alyss has prepared a spare bedroom with fresh linen and a lit fire which waits patiently in an iron stove. 

Expecting her to arrive alone, she fetches something from a cupboard stacked high with extra throws and blankets and presses it into Loki's hands. "Here, I only put one pillow in your room 'cause I thought your missus would be returning alone." Her cheeks flush. "Sorry, that sounded awful dark. I've just never had the undead stay with me before."

"He's not dead!" Y/N insists, but Alyss watches Loki's hands as he accepts the pillow, probably expecting them to fall through his fingers and onto the floor---like handing something to a ghost.

--✽--

While they get settled into the spare room, Alyss fusses over Loki some more, horrified by his cold skin and unwaveringly astonished that he's still alive. Helping him lay his clothes out to dry, and showing him the way to the washroom, she stumbles over 'sir's and 'Your Highness'es until he gently asks her to use his first name---which turns her cheeks a flattered strawberry red. Wrapping him and Y/N in blankets, she finally sends them to bed with a mug of hot milk and some oat biscuits.

Y/N waits until the door has closed behind her before sliding her pack from her back and lifting the flap.

The casket's blue light oozes, overflowing the leather drawstring, staining her fingers as she pulls it loose. Her eyebrows draw together.

"What's the matter?" Loki asks, taking a sip of his milk. It must burn his lips because he sets it down on the bedside table. "Is it alright?"

"It's fine," Y/N dismisses his concern with a wave of a hand. "It's just...frosty."

Loki folds his long legs, taking a seat opposite her. "Frosty?" 

"Yeah. The rain has soaked the bag and it must have frozen it because there's all ice inside." Carefully, as though moving a jug brimming with liquid, she lifts the casket out and sets it on the floor.