Trickster or Treatster

“I just feel like I’ve heard of this holiday before,” Sylvie reiterated as she adjusted the hooves of her costume. 

Love had dashed upstairs with superhuman speed and strength to get her pillowcase to put her candies in, and Thor was setting their bowls of candy right outside the door for the passing treaters. 

Treating, Sylvie could understand. Opening the door to delighted children as they requested a piece of candy did have some sort of appeal. But there was one portion Sylvie still didn't understand. 

Halloween, no matter how strange it could be, did not seem like it would be a treat and threaten sort of event. Who would willingly be threatened, if they did not give a treat? Life on the timeline was proving stranger and stranger. Sylvie adjusted the hood of her costume, taking care to center her magnificent foam horn as she did so. Then again, this was living on a timeline. Anything was possible, she supposed. 

“Perhaps you’ve heard of its variant. Hallow-been. Or perhaps its cousin, hallow-seen?” Loki said, feigning a gentle authenticity to his stupid puns. That was another thing she was getting used to, Loki’s mischief. His propensity for wordplay had only grown worse the longer they stayed on the timeline. Or really, she thought, the more comfortable he seemed to become in their new home. 

“Shut it, variant.” Sylvie hissed as Love thundered down the steps. Based on how Loki leaned his shoulder against hers, looking oh so very pleased in that shit-colored horse costume of his, she hadn’t been very intimidating. 

It seemed like she was getting softer, the longer she stayed on the timeline too.

“Ok, ok, I’m ready!” Love declared, her eyes glowing slightly red with excitement. Sylvie immediately unsheathed her sword, not to swing, but to deflect. This wasn’t the first time she had faced off against her powerful lasers. 

“Love, I need you to close your eyes and count to ten!” Thor called from the entranceway. Sylvie warily eyed the child, who screwed her glowing red eyes shut and took in a deep breath-

To be totally honest, Sylvie knew that it wouldn’t work out. The girl’s body was tense as a bowstring with enough energy to power all of New Asgard for four seasons. 

“onetwothreeforfivesixseveneightnineT-E-N!” Love blurted out, jumping off the last stair and flinging her eyes wide open. 

Norns, Sylvie didn’t think she’d ever be able to have children. She expertly deflected the red-hot laser off the side of her sword, shifting the lasers to join the dozen or so other scorch marks on the stone ceiling. 

Yup, stone ceiling. That was how often Thor had to deal with this. 

Loki looked up and took pity on the stone. He threw up a semi-permanent illusion to hide the scorch marks, not that Thor would care, really. “Alright, shall we get going?” Thor asked in the doorway. 

“Yes!” Love exclaimed, rushing past the both of them to join the other children in the streets. 

Thor chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I only have half the candy I bought. I wonder where the other half went?” 

And, well, it didn’t take a magician to figure out what, or who had eaten it. “She’s a sweet child,” Sylvie said as they left for the center of the town. Earning a snicker from Loki, and a sound of agreement from Thor. 

The city streets were decorated with orange and black banners, each with a variety of items sewn on the front, from elaborate skeletons to magnificent golden pumpkins. The streets in the inner part of the city were alive with the thrum of festive music, drinking adults, and a nearby play. The play was cleverly titled:

“The story of Jack, and Oh- his Lantern!”

Despite it being relatively early in the day, the sun was nearly set against the horizon. Warm red and blue lanterns dressed the roads and, well, Sylvie had to admit it was lovely. Her costume was nice and warm, and she couldn’t help but lean forward with Loki as they observed Love run up to the first house of the night, pounding on the door with her giraffe hoof.

The red door swung open, revealing an ancient looking elf. His wrinkling eyelids drooped ever so slightly, his mouth set in a seemingly permanent, muscle-less frown. “Yes?” The elf grunted, leaning on his staff so that he loomed over Love, and Sylvie felt danger. 

—

Sylvie tried to warm her hands in her filthy shirt. Her small frame was not meant for this short-sleeved shirt- but it was all she could grab before a minuteman had come in and tried to prune her. She knocked on a random door, always looking for an orange door as she waited, always feeling for a person in a black uniform. The door swung open, revealing a rather average-looking man. He took one look at her, up and down, and his lips peeled up in a sneer and he balled his fists until his knuckles were white. 

“Get away from here! We don’t need more of your kind scrambling up our doorsteps. Scram, before I call the police!” he bellowed, his face flushed with fury. His children’s eyes peeked through the gaps in his limbs. Curious, pitying, smug. 

Sylvie’s limbs froze with fear, and she couldn’t help but stare at the kids. Anywhere but the face of this furious man. “I just-” 

“Scram!” the man shouted, taking a heavy step towards her, and Sylvie fumbled with her temp-pad and jumped through the door. Landing in the mud of some sort of swamp, she let out an earth-shattering, murderous scream into her reflection. 

—

Sylvie took two steps towards the house, but Loki’s wider hand gently pinched her costume through his felted hooves. She immediately shook him off, but Loki cleared his throat. “Just watch,” Loki said in a low voice- but he didn’t reach for her again. 

This was something she was also getting used to. Someone who respected her space, who wouldn’t pursue if she asked. Listening to someone. Trusting their advice. Loki’s advice was often as questionable as her own opinions, but he was usually right about situations like this…

Sylvie clenched a fist and took one step back, but her eyes were laser-focused on Love and the elven man. Hand hovering over the dagger beneath the fake stomach of her unicorn outfit. 

“Ah, you have come for a treat,” the elf grumbled and waved his finger in the air. Simultaneously dispelling the illusion of threat, as well as that of an empty hand. The surroundings sparkled orange and grey, a passing wind rustled the little bushes that adorned his walkway… and he gave Love a wickered box filled with pink grapes. 

Sylvie blinked. What? Fruit? Wasn’t the treat supposed to be candy?

“Yes! I love lemon grapes!” Love exclaimed and scarfed a few down. 

“Hm, I know you do. Now get lost, and experience something new.” The elf made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and Loki was immediately behind Love. 

“I would also like that treat,” Loki said quite frankly, and the elf eyed the God of Mischief up and down with what almost seemed like nostalgia. 

“Ah, Prince Loki. Yes, you may also have some. You always preferred grapes over nuts.” With another wave of his hand, he gave Loki those same fruits and slammed the door in his face. 

The treat was… fruit? Sylvie paid more attention to their fellow trick or threateners and saw that, indeed, everyone had buckets or sacks filled with grapes and nuts. The neighbors were even handing out fruits in all their forms in small wooden boxes.

“I thought Thor said it was candy,” she said upon Loki’s return. Loki paid her no mind though and merely held one out for her to try. Shining and pink, perfectly round, she raised an eyebrow. 

“It is. It’s real candy,” Loki insisted, and Sylvie couldn’t help but scoff before she leaned in to eat it right from his fingers. 

He would claim that this was real candy? She pulled her lips over the grape, biting down on his thumb just for fun, and innocently took the fruit into her mouth while he nursed his bruised finger with a scowl. 

Sylvie observed him for a few moments, trying to gauge if his annoyance was feigned or genuine, and briefly shoved the grape into her cheek. 

“That was unkind, sorry,” Sylvie added, more as a statement of fact than a real apology. 

Whatever Loki said next was lost to her, because the moment she truly bit into the grape, she was lost in a sea of flavors and sugar. It was unlike anything she’d ever had, where the flavors passed like sound and the world was tinted light pink. It was sweet, but not overbearingly so. The texture, the juices, it all felt like a grape but there was a hint of some sort of citrus in it and…Norns. 

It was unbelievable that a single grape could taste better than Kablooie. Perhaps she should’ve tried visiting Ragnorak Asgard more often. 

Sylvie eyed Loki’s box of grapes, wondering if he would give her any more, but the weary expression he gave her told her no. He wouldn’t. Her Stingy Prince of Old. 

“Why don’t you go up and ask for some? This is a treat house,” Loki indicated to the wooden placard that hung from the door, depicting a pumpkin. Was that truly how it was done? Did some houses choose to treat, while others chose to threaten? Well, if it was a treat house then she must be allowed to obtain a treat. But what if he did not give it to her? While she could try and force the elven man to give her the grapes, she didn’t think Valkyrie would appreciate it if she robbed an Asgardian citizen. 

“Sylvie?” Loki asked, interrupting her thoughts. Even Love was looking up at her impatiently, obviously ready for the next house. 

“You go on, Love.” Sylvie ushered her in the direction of the other houses that were around the city center, but Love rooted herself on the spot. “No, no one gets left behind. Uncle Thor is waiting for all of us to finish at the square. Varelyn is really old, but he’s not mean. Come on Aunt Sylvie, let’s get your treat so we can go get more.” Before she could protest, Love grabbed her hand with her own two small ones and dragged her up to the doorway.

It was hard not to feel affronted, did this child think that Sylvie couldn’t do something as mundane as taking a treat? But when Love knocked on the door, and the door swung open to reveal an amused old elf, she felt her lips momentarily seal shut. She was the door-kicking sort of person, and Loki was the door-talking sort of person. What should she do now?

How does one ask for treats in a situation where there were lasting consequences for asking for it poorly? 

Give me the Grapes. 

That could offend, perhaps earning them poor standing with the elf next year. 

May I please have a treat?

Sylvie internally gagged at the thought of asking for anything like that. Loki would undoubtedly torment her for years and request she did a little princess voice as well. Well, he wouldn’t, actually. 

“Give us a treat, or we’ll threaten you.” Loki’s voice chimed in behind her, his voice intoning his seriousness, but a quick glance over once again proved that he could never truly hide the mischief in his eyes. He rested his chin on the top of her head, his body just barely touching her back, grounding her. 

She loved and hated Loki for things like this. 

“Ah, the other princess. Here for a treat?” Varelyn asked, opting to lean against his doorway while he awaited her answer. 

“Yes. I am,” Sylvie responded. Ah, she had to state her intent. “Here for the treat,” she clarified her previous response, but the way Varelyn looked at her had her amend her statement once more. “Please.” 

Loki snickered before giving her arm a reassuring squeeze, which she returned with a firm elbow to the gut. One look behind her and Sylvie saw that Love was already slowly making her way down the stairs, waiting for her to receive her treat before she dashed off to the next house. 

“Of course, Sylvie. I saw you try these for the first time through my window.” Creepy? Or normal, they were in front of his house after all. “I’m glad you’ve learned to enjoy a new food.” Varelyn beamed at her, revealing a pearly white smile before he dumped two boxes into her dumbfounded hands. “Now get lost, and experience something new.” With that, he slammed the door in their faces once more. 

“You got two for being new? I’m technically new too!” Loki exclaimed as he helped her put the extra box in her trick-or-threaten bag; it was all for show, though. Sylvie batted away his wiggling fingers, even his invisible ones as he tried to pilfer her extra grapes. 

As they went door to door, Loki continued to fixate on her extra box. Eventually shoving his hand down her bag, and becoming puzzled when he found nothing. “Where did you hide it?” Loki asked as they received a bag of candy nuts from another treat house. Sylvie, in turn, simply spat out an unbitten grape at his face, catching it before it hit the ground. 

Loki spluttered and wiped off his face. “What have I done to—” Well aimed, Sylvie bounced another one off that large forehead of his. Once again catching the grape on the rebound and popping it back into her mouth to eat. 

As they continued to be led around by Love across the neighborhood, Sylvie felt herself relax. Linking her hooved arm with Loki’s own as they received treat after treat.

Sylvie didn’t know that such an assortment of fruits and nuts could ever exist, yet each one she received was quite literally candy. It was overwhelming at times, simply standing at a door, waiting for it to open, and receiving some sort of gift without any expectation for a returned favor had her tap her right foot at times. 

Eventually, though, they’d run out of treat houses. Only the threaten houses remained, those with skull or witches banners. “How do the threaten houses work?” Sylvie asked once they found themselves standing in front of the doorstep. 

Love let out a high-pitched war cry, answering her question, and pounded on the person’s door. A quaint Asgardian woman opened the door and tugged her shawl a little tighter. “Well?” The woman asked the tiny one before her. 

“Give us a treat or I’ll laser your house in half!” Love cried out, her voice cracking slightly in the middle from excitement. 

The woman rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that one before.” 

Sylvie raised an eyebrow and looked to Loki for an explanation, who seemed just as amused as she. “Well… I’ll smash your door in half!” Love tried.

“Astrid already threatened that an hour ago.” 

“I’ll steal your candy!”

“That’s very original, Love,” the woman lightly taunted.

Love huffed and looked around for something else she could threaten. When she found nothing, however, she turned back and cast a pleading gaze onto her two chaperones. Even though Sylvie was really unsure of how this whole thing worked, she was pretty sure what the person in this house was looking for. 

“If you don’t give the child candy,” Sylvie said in her best casual tone. She sauntered up the steps, ducking ever so slightly so that her unicorn horn wouldn’t get tangled in the streamers that hung about the porch. Her gaze wandered to a roll of toilet paper, neatly propped against the house. 

“We are going to throw toilet paper on top of your home,” Sylvie stated. 

This caught everyone’s attention. “What? Georgi already threatened that, what's so different about this one?” The woman scoffed, but she was clearly interested. 

“Loki, how much toilet paper can you make?” she asked her magician. Loki scoffed behind her and took a few steps so that he stood next to her.

“I beg your pardon?” 

Sylvie didn’t take her eyes off the woman. “How much toilet paper can you make?”

Loki looked at the owner, at Love, at Sylvie, comprehension finally dawning on his features. With a muted snap of his fingers, he had a jumbo-sized roll of toilet paper perfectly balanced atop his left hoof. 

“Enough to bury this house in it.” He matched the casualness of her question. 

Love crossed her arms and attempted her best glower, which really didn’t work given that the Giraffe’s head was at eye level with the woman, not her face. 

“We’ll bury your house in so much toilet paper, it’ll never see the light of day!” Sylvie said, voice raising ever so slightly. 

“Your house will get soggy! Then I’ll have Uncle Thor summon his rain and make your house a soggy toilet paper!” Love added as Loki slowly continued to conjure toilet roll after toilet roll. Adding it to a pile next to the Asgardian’s doorway. 

Between fits of hysterical laughter, the woman gave them each a bag of chocolate-covered oranges. “I can’t have that!” 

Bolstered by this, Sylvie went from house to house, leading the charge in her threats. Anything from bodily harm to threatening to curse their garden beds, Loki was delighted to add his own magical illusions to illustrate what would happen if they were refused their treat. 

Curiously, many of the houses already had a few rolls of toilet paper leaned against their walls.

“We’ll beat you in arm wrestling, you coward!” Sylvie ended up shouting at a rather impassable house owner. 

The couple at the door crossed their arms over their chests and exchanged amused glances. “Us?” The husband asked, flexing his arm for emphasis. The other husband flexed his arm as well, just as impressive. 

“And I’ll dance on top of your loser bodies!” Love added, and Loki was doing his best to keep his expression very serious, but Sylvie could hear him stifle his laughter behind her. 

“Who taught you things like that?” Husband of the Left asked as Husband of the Right brought out a table for them to duel on. 

“Uncle Thor does it every time he defeats someone online!” 

The husbands exchanged looks and nodded. “As you should. Defeating the enemy is a cause for celebration.” Not a single one of them disagreed.

Sylvie saddled up in front of the Aesir, her soft fabric-covered hand in theirs- and Loki’s magic at the ready. She had said, “we”, not “her” after all. 

Once they emerged victorious, with Love briefly getting hoisted upon each husband’s shoulder as they gave them slices of their freshly made fruit tarts, Thor joined them. His face slightly pink as he enveloped Love in a huge hug, to which the girl seemed unfazed as her eyes scanned for the next house to shake down. 

“How goes the pillaging?” Thor asked as Love surged ahead once more to one of the last houses. 

“It goes well, Thor. Sylvie is popular, she’s received nearly a third more gifts than I,” Loki replied, leaning back to avoid Thor’s rhinoceros horn as he leaned in. 

“Ah, she is a favorite here. As I walked by, many of the residents remarked how pleasant it was to finally meet Sylvie.” Thor informed them, to her great surprise. Those were definitely words that'd never been put together in a sentence before. The Asgardian villagers were being dramatic, though. Loki and she had been in the village for months, and it wasn’t exactly a very populated area. Surely she’d seen them a few times before? 

But as Sylvie thought back to it… perhaps not. She had a habit of taking strolls in the forest during the day and walking the streets of the village or city at night. Sometimes Loki would join her, but oftentimes he wouldn’t. The solitude was never something she’d noticed as out of the ordinary…

“Well, Sylvie is quite charming once you get past her initial threats. Love is a wonderful child, Thor. I can see much of you in her,” Loki said as they waited in line for this house. 

At this, his almost-brother awkwardly scratched his beard and let out a chuckle. “Well, I’m not really her Father. She was Gorr’s.” 

The festivities of the night seemed to quiet in this one moment, in the way that crowds occasionally ceased all chatter for no reason other than a lull of conversation. It was her, this time, that reached for Loki. She placed her hoof at the small of his felted back, and he leaned into the touch. “And I was not truly Frigga’s, and yet there’s much you can see of her through me.” 

Thor hiccupped, from ale or emotion, it was unknown. “I do see her in you, and it pains me that my Loki could not see the same.” The two almost brothers stood with their shoulders mere inches from each other, close enough to feel the heat of their costumes, but not close enough to touch. 

“Is she a terrible shot with a dagger? Because Loki is.” Sylvie interjected, earning a full-bellied laugh from Thor. 

“No, she could beat even the most professional players in a game of darts.” 

That was an interesting skill to pick up. Before either of them could elaborate on that story though, an angry cry from the front of the door caught their attention. There stood a child, dressed in a wolf costume and with a face red as a tomato, as the indifferent teenage threatener at the doorway smirked. “Is that all you have, Georgi?” THe teen taunted. Sylvie raised an eyebrow. Hadn't that been the prior child who had threatened the first house they visited with toilet paper?

“I’ll blow your house down!” Georgi threatened, his childlike voice echoing through the alleyways. 

“I reinforced the foundation of the house yesterday. You couldn’t blow this house down even if a tornado came and helped you!” The threatener taunted, and the air shifted.

 “Oh no. Love, hold onto something!” Thor called out, and Loki and Sylvie raised an eyebrow. What?

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind literally swept them off their feet. Spinning in a cyclone from the front step, other trick-or-treaters frantically held onto bicycle stands, street lamps, rails, bushes, anything. 

“What the hell?” Sylvie shouted, her voice getting drowned out by the roaring of winds around her. Loki flew past her, grabbing her unicorn head as he went- causing her to whip backward with him. “You’re an idiot!” Sylvie shouted as she grabbed onto his tail. 

Like a backpack, Loki latched onto her back and shouted in her ear. “TemPad! TemPad!” 

Sylvie ripped her hands through the hooves of her costume and slapped the surface of the Citadel temp pad. Location: the center square. Time: the present. Universe: Current. 

Getting the timedoor just right was tricky. If she misplaced it, they’d likely lose a limb with how fast they were going. 

“Just in front, in front!” Loki’s pointer finger filled her vision as they missed timedoor after timedoor. “It’s not as easy as it looks!” Sylvie snapped, eyebrows furrowing in concentration after finally, finally, orange filled their vision, and they were hurled into some sort of field a little way out of New Asgard. 

Sylvie tumbled to the ground with a grunt, quickly spinning back to her feet from centuries of practice. Loki was a bit less smooth, but he did come back up with that flip of his hair and slightly skewed horse face atop his head. “Well, that was impressive. Georgi was his name? Remind me to take him if there’s ever a sailing competition,” Loki said as he stood from the ground. 

Sylvie dusted off her unicorn suit and shook a few leaves from her hair. “Well, I think we know who won the threat battle,” Sylvie said, nodding to the still-standing house. 

They weren't too far from the city center, although Loki groaned at the distance. "Can't you teleport us there?" Sylvie asked as they set a steady pace for town. It wasn't more than a fifteen-minute walk. It was curious how Loki refused to meet her gaze, surely he hadn't used that much magic? 

"I... overspent," Loki admitted as he stepped over a couple of large rocks. Overspent? Sylvie mused. How could he have overspent, all he'd done was summon toilet paper and conjure some illusions. 

"Care to explain?" 

Loki scratched the side of his face with his shoulder and cleared his throat. "Well, I left little gifts along each and every one of our threateners. Perhaps a few rolls of toilet paper, neatly stacked and cleverly hidden." 

The silence was deafening, and Sylvie could feel the bubble of uncontrollable laughter build in her cheeks. "How many did you conjure?"

Loki kicked a pile of leaves and looked up at the moon. "Perhaps three or four hundred rolls." 

Sylvie nearly keeled over with laughter, hands on her stomach as she howled her laughter into the night. "Yes, yes-"

"Well, it seems like you really put your magic down the drain."

"Well, I wouldn't say-"

"You really have a toilet paper sense of humor."

"Now, see here-"

"You really are Prince Charmin," she wheezed, her vision turning white as she struggled to gasp for air.

"What does that even mean?" Loki raised his voice so that he could be heard above her guffaws, although he was now also laughing a bit with her. "It really is ridiculous, I know. What of your TemPad?" Loki asked, his shoulder jostling with her when she finally collected herself enough to continue on their walk. 

Sylvie revealed the TemPad, the once orange cracks were dulled to a brown. "It's still in cooldown." The cooldowns were the price for its accuracy and range. It usually only took half an hour at most to recharge. In their case, though, it was faster to simply walk. The night was cool, and her company wasn't bad. Loki chatted away about the event, already recounting his favorite houses to threaten. The way he moved in the moonlight was like watching a play, and his voice set a suitable cadence for their journey back. Sneaking a hoofed hand into his, she tried to not smile the way he momentarily paused as he took ahold of her hand, and looked away for a moment. 

"This whole event isn't bad. I could do this again next year," Sylvie said as she rubbed her nose. Loki gave her hand a quick squeeze, and she thought she heard him kiss her unicorn's head. "As could I... and Sylvie, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Loki nudged his head to the closest building. They were finally back onto paved roads, but what was this they saw? More than half of the buildings were now covered in toilet paper! Perfectly unfurled and expertly laid across trees and houses. 

"Did Georgi's twister undo the toilet paper?" Sylvie asked, grabbing a stray piece that dangled from someone's gutter. 

"No, I glued the ends very tightly," Loki muttered, narrowing his eyes as they neared the center of the town. 

It seemed that Georgi was not only a threatner, but also a trickster.