Prompt: For lack of better candidates someone's parents jokingly named the Norse god Loki as the child's godfather. He decides to take this seriously.
Disclaimer: Prompt is not mine, but story is.
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My birth could be called an interesting one. It started out simple enough, Mom went into labor Dad drove to the hospital and after six hours I popped out. My parents were ecstatic, they had always wanted a baby girl to cherish and shower in affection, but we'll come back to that.
My Dad's brother was supposed to be named the godfather, but he died of lung cancer a year earlier. So, for lack of better candidates, my father decided to name Loki, the Norse god of mischief, my godfather. See, Dad was a professor of Norse mythology at the local community college and he absolutely adored Loki, so it made sense to try and pull a stunt like that. Now I don't know if Mom was delirious or just in a really good mood but she allowed it, I know right? Crazy. The only thing they couldn't foresee though, was that Loki was actually listening. <y life had gotten interesting before it had even begun.
The first time I remember seeing Loki is hazy, which leads me to believe that I was very young at the time. I remember hearing a soft, melodic voice and piercing green eyes. The man looked terrifying by all rights, definitely not to be trifled with if memory serves correct, but I don't remember crying. He was so gentle and everything felt right. I don't remember much after that, but I know he probably left before my feeding to avoid being caught.
The next time I see Loki I remember him much more vividly. I was still young, maybe six at the time, and the first thing I remember thinking was that he was a giant. He was so tall, maybe a little over six foot, which was surprising to my six year old mind because I was used to short people all the time (Parring,Maryland's height average left much to be desired). I remember being hurt, a scraped knee, but I can't for the life of me remember how. Oh well, probably something stupid. I was sitting on the curb by my house when he walked over and knelt down in front of me. "Hello Liten en, why are you crying?"
I told him that I had hurt my knee and that after I got hurt all my friends left in order to avoid blame. Or tried to anyways, it probably came out as incoherent babbling more than anything. But he was patient and he cradled and shushed me as I sobbed. Eventually, I managed to calm down and wipe my nose, but I still felt embarrassed for crying like a baby.
He just held me close to his side, he didn't yell at me or make fun of me, it was like he was protecting me from the world's atrocities. I remember feeling safe. But I never was one for silences.
"My name's Maeve, what's yours?" He smiled down at me, amusement in his green eyes.
"My name is Loki," he had an odd accent. The accent itself was harsh and cold, but his words held a certain lilt to them.
"Do you have a band- aid?" Smooth Maeve. I always was blunt, but he didn't seem to mind. He gave me a small smile and with a poof of green smoke a pink Hello Kitty band-aid appeared. He was about to put it on my knee when I stopped him.
"No, not pink!" I cried out, he looked at me confusedly. "Pink is for girls!" He seemed to understand, and the pink band-aid was replaced with a green Hulk one. I let him apply the bandage and soon after he sent me on my way. I remember sprinting home to tell my parents about the man who magically made a band-aid appear. They didn't believe me. It wouldn't be the last time.
Loki appeared a couple more times throughout my childhood, always lending a helping hand or drying tears. I never really questioned it, I thought he was just a nice neighbor and we became close. Then, as I started to hit teenage years I saw him less frequently, but I knew he was always there. A silent protector. The next time I spoke to him though would not be for years, at my High school graduation. I was valedictorian of my class and I was supposed to be giving a great, inspiring speech about the future, but I wasn't really feeling it. In fact, the only thing I was feeling was sick. My stomach was turning and I was pacing backstage when I suddenly felt a presence, signalling that I was not alone anymore. Turning around I saw him in all his glory. He was wearing a black shirt and blazer, a green tie and black dress pants. He was leaning casually against the wall and looked perfectly at ease. My anxiety and I envied him in that moment. "What are you doing here?" I asked, while resuming my pacing. I knew who he was now, I'd done my research after finally figuring out that normal people can't just make band-aids appear. I knew he was Loki, the trickster god, but for some reason I still wasn't afraid.
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Short Stories
Short StoryA collection of short stories I've written based of writing prompts