A Whole Bunch of Loki's

To Be Granted One More Chance - Part Four

(Part of this is so much closer to horror than fluff, guess I always end up going back to my roots.)

There's a warmth pressing against my back as I awoke in the morning and that was how I knew that I hadn't returned home, despite fulfilling what I potentially could have been sent here for.

I had felt more alive the previous night than I had in a while.

The festival had been an experience I would have left happy to remember.

There was music and dancing to ease everyone into the festivities from early afternoon, an elderly couple had set up a stage and long dining table on their land and had the place decorated with the simplest of decorations that gave the festival its own little homely feeling.

At one point I had found myself roped into helping my neighbor carve pumpkins with the local children, some of the designs being beyond recognizable but everyone having fun with what they were doing.

As I watched her help a young girl carve what I presumed to be a tree, I felt a want bubbling inside of me that I tried to push away to focus on the festivities themselves.

During the feast everyone in the surrounding community was so kind to one another, passing their homemade food around the table and sharing stories as the evening turned to night, in time for the pumpkins that had been set around the stage like a border to be lit.

It was small, humble and had I not selfishly wished for another chance I never would have known that such events happened within the smaller communities of our realm.

I was so accustomed to large parties with the fanciest foods and beverages being shared with people in lavish clothes that it had never occurred to me that there were others within our own realm that never got to experience such a life.

Yet, they made the night their own and it was somehow even better than the parties I had attended in the palace.

At least this party there wasn't a lingering air of it potentially turning into an orgy, unlike some royal parties I had attended in the past.

By the time light had entirely faded from the sky the children were put to bed and the adults stayed outside, drinking, singing and dancing.

I had been sat at a table with a plate of the pumpkin pie I had made with her, a drink in my hand as an older man sat across from me trying to slur out a story.

It was barely intelligible, from what I could gather it was about his wife who was unfortunately bed bound and couldn't attend but had still handmade a candle to light for the harvest prayer that he could set down in her place so their crops could get their blessing for another year.

There was something to his story that made me smile, even though I couldn't understand most of what he was attempting to say.

"I hope you don't mind," a now familiar voice spoke up as a hand came to rest on my shoulder, "but I need to steal Loki away, it's our turn to set our candles down and offer our prayer."

He made some kind of reply, which I'm guessing was; "No, you go ahead, I'm fine here," but I couldn't be entirely sure.

I also believe I heard something about young lovers and getting all the blessings you could get, but there was every chance that I was wrong.

Standing from my seat, I dipped my head in farewell and picked up my own candle from the basket they each had been set in upon arrival before letting her lead me off.

We walked to the set-up vigil in silence.

As per the rest of the festival it wasn't anything fancy, just something meaningful to the people who had created it.

Asgardians typically had someone they prayed to, for many it was my once adoptive father Odin, to these humble farming folk it was a crudely made scarecrow who stood as tall as my biological father, its pumpkin head tilted with a wretched smile carved into its face.

That same pumpkin we ourselves had carved just that morning before a burly gentleman had come to roll it away on his wheelbarrow.

The mass of flickering candles underneath barely illuminated the vigil, despite the various sizes and collective light that they were giving off.

It was enough for me to see the black and green intertwining within my own candle, but not enough for me to see the thing's face that stood high above even my tall stature.

Stopping in front of the other candles, she looked up at me and smiled then pulled her candle closer to her lips and whispered something so soft I couldn't hear.

Though the wick of her candle still sparked to life and she slowly knelt down in front of the vigil, bowing low as she continued to whisper before setting her candle amongst the others and standing back up, backing away with her head bowed.

"And that is my prayer for this year," she finally said loud enough for me to hear.

Her eyes flickered to me and she smiled widely, taking more steps back to give me space to start my own prayer.

Looking down at the candle in my hand, I slowly raised it to my lips and whispered what I knew to be the beginning incantation;

"With the offering of this candle, I wish to state my prayer."

Pulling it away, I watched the wick flicker to life and knew that this was my chance to take everything I had ever wanted.

Everything I had ever wished for.

I spared a quick glance over my shoulder before getting to my knees, bowing my head and starting my ask.

"So," a tired voice spoke over my shoulder as she lifted her head to rest on my arm, a withered but content smile on her lips, "what did you ask for?"

I carefully pulled away and rolled over to face her, unintentionally shifting the thin blanket covering us and exposing us both to the chilling air, her nipples becoming perked almost immediately at the change in temperature.

Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her closer so that our chests pressed together and let my eyes fall shut once again, basking in the return of the warmth.

"For a bountiful harvest to see us through the upcoming year," I answered lazily, my voice still heavy with sleep and laced with an easy lie. "How about you?"

She let out a soft huff of a laugh and buried her head beneath my chin, her hands pressed between us.

"That we're plenty fertile and grow the best produce between us."