I enjoy the company.
Your eyes open to the same swaying tapestry of an Asgardian weave they last saw before drifting to sleep in the night, now covered in the bright yellow of morning. A slight panic rises in your chest as you sit up, expecting to wake in your own reality and remaining in this unfamiliar world. Regardless of knowing the tie you now held to this place, you attempted to leave it completely as you went to sleep. Casting a note to take the memories with you from all but this place's Seer, you closed your eyes and drifted off. Yet you woke here in the breeze of Asgard's wind coming through the window to your left, chilling your arm like it had the night before.
You had said goodbye to Loki as he bowed to you at your door after leading him to your rooms, only a hall over from his own. He had questioned the entire walk how he would not have noticed a hall so close to his own his whole life, but seemed satisfied in its placement. Had you thought it possible to stay, you may have invited him in for tea.
Now you lie in a too large, too cool bed as the sun moves higher in the sky to cast a brighter beam across the bedspread. You sit for a moment to trace the embroidered details of the blanket, allowing your eyes to adjust before a chill takes your skin again. Yawning in a tightly wound stretch, you insist your feet touch the ground and pull you up. Grabbing the embroidered piece as a shield from the breeze, you wrap it around you on the walk to the window. A mission to slam them shut and remain in bed until you can drift back off in hopes the less distractions to rest will allow your departure is disrupted by the sight kf a figure walking the garden below.
You watch as they walk down the path, away from the doorway beneath your room they must have exited. In their left hand is a book open in their palm, gaze towards it as they make their slow march to the overlook at the end of the park. They walk under the center gazebo whose flowers are just now starting to open from the night, their right hand brushing along the vines and iron as they pass under. Their exploring hand dawns two rings, one on the smallest finger and one on the middle. Both rings are covered as the hand drops from the iron and their body becomes less detailed as they descend, their features fade as does the distraction and the windows to your room finish their path to close.
You remain in bed for hours with your eyes closed, though never fully drift to sleep. You find yourself memorizing the stitches of the tapestry hanging above you in hopes the act may offer enough lulling to sleep and return home. The deep red of the fabric stopped swaying when you dammed the wind, but the imagery still seems to move.
Golden threaded icons tell the story of a butterfly, pressing kisses to each petal in a field of flowers rather than tearing them off in hopes of finding a bride. The daisy refuses an answer of who his bride may be, making the butterfly travel the garden by golden thread as he tries to woo the buds amongst him. The crocus and snowdrop are too formal and stiff, their thread images nearly dull; anemones, he determines, are too sour while the violets are too sentimental; lime blossoms too small, apple blossoms too fragile; the butterfly flies through the garden, finding each flower too much or not enough.
The seasons change several times over as the thread interlocks with the fabric, the story in a spiral around the overhang. The butterfly eventually chooses not a flower, but the unblossoming mint. The butterfly dances in it's fragrance and sighs in the sweetness as he declares his intentions to the plant. However, the mint refuses his offer of marriage and instead proposes friendship; their threads intertwine only momentarily before their separation at the edge of the cloth.
The story ends for the thirteenth time, the start of the fourteenth interrupted by a light tap on your bedroom door. Sighing, you stand from the bed and pull the same embroidered blanket around your shoulders from earlier in the morning.
Loki stands in the frame of your door as you open it, arms crossed behind his back as he nods a hello. “Mother has asked me to check on you,” he explains,”You did not call for breakfast and it’s well past lunch. Are you alright?”
You hum, “I’m alright. Woke up rather early and couldn’t find my way back.” You smile politely, “Would you like to come in?”
Loki accepts the offer with his own small smile as he takes a step past you, turning to take in the architecture of the room as he enters.
You watch as he examines the room, his eyes roaming the carved wooden arches of the windows and doorways.
He doesn't stop studying as he comments, "I'm still very confused with how I've never truly noticed this portion of my own home." He shakes his head to himself, "But somehow, it's all rather familiar in a way. I suppose that's because the architecture is perfectly fitting."
"Well," your face is nearly unmoving in the rehearsed explanation, "if you've never had use for a room I suppose you don't pay a whole lot of attention to it."
Loki hums in his pacing, taking in the perimeter of the room. "A room, yes I would agree with that." Loki turns and starts a path back to where you stand draped in your blanket, his eyes still tracing the scenery around him. "I could dismiss a room, I dismiss many in the expanse of the grounds. However," his gaze now traces where the blanket edges scrape the floor and anchor themselves on your shoulders, "this is an entire chamber. You have a powder room, dressing room, a balcony next to my own I've somehow always just dismissed. Never played in as a boy, never explored."
You breathe in, watching Loki as he stops within arms reach of you. Your face remains unexpressive with a slight tilt of your head, "The mind does some very interesting things."
"Mmm, I supposed so." He murmurs in response, "An ideal model."
"Loki." You catch his attention, and finally his gaze to your own.
"Yes?"
"Would you like to have tea?"
Loki's eyes reveal a slight glimmer in his stoic acceptance, "It would be my pleasure. I shall send for a tray, and step out to allow you to dress."
You nod once as you watch him exit your bedroom, turning to the left doorway in your chambers as the latch catches in the hall door behind the God of Mischief.
As you enter the dressing room your reflection catches your eye in the mirror that hangs between the hanging dresses. The deep woven cloth framing your figure feels heavier the longer you look, the stitches seem to hug you as your breath raises your shoulders then drops them over and over again. A moment passes before you hear a familiar light tap on the door, pulling your attention away from the bed dress you wear under the blanket.
You decide against any of the dresses in the room, choosing instead dark pants with a light top which are complemented by a deep green cloak with its own golden design enhancing the woven texture. Returning to the mirror, you find a position for your hair with two pins as it falls naturally to keep it out of your face and exit to the main room after the jewels belonging to this ensemble find their way to your neck and wrists.
Another tap on your door leads to the frame of Loki outside of your room again, though now be holds a tray set with all the necessary accessories for tea and small plates of food. "I was worried you had changed your mind."
"Never," you move aside to allow him in, "Though I may rush you out if this tea can get me to sleep."
Your smile is matched as he passes you and the table in your room, instead walking to the balcony. He turns before opening the door to outside, "The view of the garden is quite nice this time of day. Do you mind?"
"Not at all." You follow Loki to the small table and pair of iron chairs on the terrace, taking in the view as he sets the tray down. "You were very right. Gods," your eyebrows furrow, "how late is it? Did I truly stay in bed all day?"
The evening glow paints the garden in shades of orange and deep yellow, the sky nearing a pink color on the horizon. The shadows cast by the iron arches and willows in the park are long and low as they reach for the corners of the paths, no visitors roaming them now.
"I told you it was well past lunch." Loki smirks slightly to himself as he offers you the seat his hands rest on, pulling it away from the table.
You nod, "Very well past." You sit in the seat he holds, helping you move closer to the table as you collect your cloak to the side of the chair. Loki sits across from you and begins pouring the tea into their cups as you realize why no guests roam the gardens, "Are you missing your dinner?"
He shakes his head, "I'm eating right now."
You give him a raised brow, "You're going to have tea instead of a proper meal?"
"What defines a proper meal?" Loki hands you the first cop and saucer, a spoon resting on its edge.
You lick your lips for a moment to think, "I'd say that answer is different for everyone. I suppose you win." You shrug as you sip from your cup, watch Loki do the same.
"Ah," Loki smacks his lips as he crosses his ankle over his knee, "I did not ask for everyone's answer; I asked for yours."
You bite the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips, "Hm, well I suppose I need another moment to think about that." You sip as you contemplate what a meal for you is, something as simple as feeding yourself doesn't quite fit the bill. Loki watches as you think, your eyes moving around his face as your brain searches for the memories of your most enjoyed feasts.
You come to an answer before Loki can begin dismissing his own query, "Food, company, conversation, and peace. These are my requirements for a meal." You take a handful of fruit from the tray in front of you, setting your cup down.
"I agree," Loki reaches for his own collection of food, "Do we not entertain each of those things here?"
"I supposed we do." Your face falls into a relaxed smile as you slowly empty your handful of fruit, looking as the shadows fall longer and longer across the greenery and flowers begin to close for the night.
As you turn to return to the tray for your cup you see Loki watching you, holding his own cup in his lap. His face relaxed as if he were not truly thinking about anything other than existing in the moment he's in right now, though his words betray that assumption. "What did you show my mother?"
Contemplation rests in the sip of your tea as your gaze tricks you into admiring how this Loki sits with you. The relaxed muscles of his shoulders and the informal cross of his legs. The clothing he wears is anything but court approved, you notice only now the light linens he wears in the deep green he has claimed. His speech and manners slip between formal and informal, foe and friend, enemy and threat. This Loki is unfamiliar, this Loki is not yours.
"Why did you come to check on me today?" Your cup finds its way back to the table.
"My mother asked me to-"
"Why did you," you cut him off, "come to check on me today?"
Loki exhales slowly, setting his own cup down. "I want to know what you showed my mother."
You eye him, his shoulders resetting themselves into their practiced position as he sits straighter. You blink and chuckle slightly, "I would have chosen to show you had you needed to be shown."
"You said I choose."
"What?"
"In the court's room," Loki's eyes narrow, "as you were showing her, you looked at me several times. You said I choose. I choose to know, now."
Your tongue swipes the inside of your teeth, "Ah, okay. I can see how that-"
"Tell me, Goddess." Loki demands.
Your speech stops as you stare at him, mouth agape. For seconds all you feel is your heartbeat in your chest as it pushes around your lungs. "Be more specific." The staccato response Loki didn't want almost misses his ears in its low volume.
He inhales long and slow, watching as you sit bent over on your elbows with your hand clasped, face hardened and waiting for his snap. Loki quizzes you, "Why choose Frigga; why make mysterious comments about me; why come here and expect no one to question you?"
You narrow your eyes to his own as he uncrosses his legs, "I had no other option here; I didn't intend to make them; I didn't intend to come here."
Loki's jaw clenches, "Those aren't true answers."
"They're my answers." You snip. "Be more specific if you want better answers."
"How did you get here?" He tilts his head to the side.
You sigh as you sit back and shrug, "I woke up."
"You woke up? Here? In this room?" Loki laughs mockingly, "Yes because that's how travel works. I'm glad to know you're not the Goddess of Honesty."
"That's the second time you've called me goddess. Why?"
Loki blinks in slight surprise, "I've never seen magic used in such ways, not by a normal practitioner. I've never seen memory sharing on such a scale, not at such length either. You stopped Mjolnir with a sneer. There's no other option."
You nod, humming in agreement.
"So it's true then, you are a goddess."
You pull on your bottom lip to think, "I suppose so, yes."
Loki's eyebrows furrow but he continues as if he has only minutes to find answers, "You made comments about me to Frigga."
You cross your arms as you lean back, looking across the darkening sky. "I did."
Loki waits in silence, watching you as he runs his thumb nail along the inside of his forefinger.
You sigh, releasing your own tension thinking about how frustrating talking to yourself now would be had you been the one interacting in this conversation. How angry it would make you, how terrified it would cause you to become because of this person with no true answer; you don't want to be terrified.
"I didn't intend on coming here, I intended on going to another universe." You shake your head and screw your eyes closed, "I can't give you many details. It would be too much." You open your eyes with another sigh, finding Loki's tense stare, "I'm sorry but I need you to trust me on things I cannot answer."
His jaw twitches once more before his own exhale relaxes his muscles, nodding sharp and waiting for more words to fall from your mouth.
You lick your lips as you find the words, "I," you sigh and run your hand across your arm as you try to explain, "I can visit different universes, create them if I so wish. That's why I knew where I was and who was here." You sigh once more, "I didn't mean to frighten you."
Loki stays in silence for a moment, watching you speak. He sits back in his seat as he thinks, finally speaking to note, "You were searching for me."
You nod silently.
His eyes leave you as he searches the ground to your right, piecing together the few details he knows. "I was the first person you called for." The statement ends more as a question, his brow supporting the confusion.
Your heart breaks slightly as you watch his eyes bat back and forth. "Loki," you call and his eyes snap back up to yours, "you were the first person I called for."
His eyes leave yours again only for a second as he lightly pleads, "Why?"
The Loki you find in each universe shatters through in one word, the Loki who is confused and lost. The Loki who will find his own way, and then find his way to you, the Loki who is yours. The Loki who always picks that little house within walking distance to the village. But, that's not this Loki, not yet.
Your silence rings fear in the god sitting in front of you, he stands as his voice raises, "Why did you call for me first? Why did you speak of me to Frigga?"
"You're everywhere I go; in every universe I know you're there. I feel it." You lie.
He knows and laughs, "Do not fib to the God of Lies, Goddess, you are outrageously poor at it. Tell me why you search for me, why am I your target?" Loki growls as he takes a step towards you, still sitting back in your chair.
You look up to him, to Loki, to those eyes that are so scared and lock themselves behind angry words. "I enjoy the company." You explain, "I enjoy your company, Loki."
His chest rises and falls as he stands and searches your face for deception. Before he can speak you stand, looking from him, to the tray, and back again. "You are not a target, I am not a threat."
"No," He sneers, "just an enemy."
You nod and a smile stitches itself on your lips but never reaches your eyes, "An enemy." You sigh and wave a hand over the tray, ridding the balcony of the mess of leftovers. "Thank you for the meal, Loki. I'm sorry we never satisfied each requirement."
You bow to him as he exits, watching his long stride take him into your bedroom and out the hall door.