Unburdened

Nope. This was not part of the plan. Isolation was the plan, not having to deal with people was the plan, but this? A random man standing on your porch, calling you neighbor? Not part of the plan. Sure there were other cabins around, but none close enough to consider them neighbors. The whole point of being here was to be alone, to enjoy peaceful time in nature, and attempt to move on. Your hands shook slightly, why were you..angry? Was it helplessness? The feeling that no matter what you do, nothing can go your way?

The man walked towards you quickly with his hands outstretched, cautiously taking in your state. “I’m terribly sorry, startling you was not my intention. Are you alright?” His voice was laced with concern as his eyes shifted from your shaking hands to your toppled bucket. “You must be the owner, correct?” He asked, gesturing to your cottage.

“I am,” you replied curtly, still wary of the stranger.

He seemed polite enough, his green eyes had shifted from their initial cold stare to one filled with worry. It was clear he wasn’t from around here, neither were you but at least you had adapted. His black suit, dress shoes, and wind toussled hair said he had not. Despite being late summer, there was a cool breeze that should be easily cutting through his jacket. This close to the Jotunheim mountain range, the weather held a chill through the summer. You learned this quickly when it only hit about 73 degrees in July upon your arrival.

The longer you looked into his kind eyes, the more your anger melted away. Your mother always told you that our eyes held our histories. His seemed, well, lonely. Much like yours must these days. The lines that pulled at the corners mapped out a life of stress, dark circles formed from a plethora of sleepless nights. More than that, the soft circles of mixed green hues held secrets in his irises. What was it you were feeling while gazing into his eyes? Longing maybe? A wish to unlock those secrets?

The feelings consumed you, that was until the chill reminded you of your soaked boots and now empty bucket. “Oh crap, I needed that for today,” you sighed, frustration woven into the words. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you promptly closed your eyes before the setback could make tears well up. Why can’t things just go right for once? Its the first time you’ve interacted with another person, outside of the store clerk in town, in 5 weeks and it only took a minute for things to go to shit. That had to be a new record.

“Oh, dear, please don’t cry,” He all but whispered, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I truly meant no harm.” He swiftly grabbed the bucket and guided you up towards the cottage. “Please, allow me to rectify the situation. I, well,” He paused, his sorrow-filled voice hesitating, “I need some practice making amends. Please, go and clean yourself up while I gather more water for you. I assume your utilities are out as mine are?”

You nodded softly in response. Why was he being so kind, and sounding so sad? More so, why were you so sad? It's just a spill. Nothing that can’t be fixed, yet you still felt tears pricking your eyes. The back of your hand quickly wiped them away before gesturing back down the hill as he walked you towards the cabin. He was taller than you and had nearly hunched his shoulders to almost cradle you. The touch was all too familiar for a stranger, fright or not.

You stepped and turned hastily out of his gentle grip, “The spring is at the bottom of the hill. Its a bit of a trek.” Voice brimming with exasperation.

Footsteps hastening towards home, you hesitated before looking back. He had started walking downhill, shoulder stiff and fist clenched around the bucket. Had your harsh reaction irritated him? Maybe, but why should you care? The dude showed up out of the blue and scared you, the least he could do was refill the bucket. He did say his electricity was out too, maybe he was just checking on you? Maybe he needed help? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t your problem. Not your circus, not your monkey. So why was it eating at your insides? Why did responding to his presence in an appropriate way make you feel sick with guilt?

You turned on your heel, feeling the water squish in the sole of your boot. “Hey!” When he looked over his shoulder with an again chilling gaze, you waved, “Thanks for helping me out, I owe you one.”

His furrowed brows relaxed before he turned away and continued down the hill. The wind blew his raven hair across his blushed cheeks. Someone thanked him. For something as simple as fetching water. It seemed preposterous to Loki, he had barely earned Thor’s amnesty after bringing the ship from Sakaar to Asgard, yet somehow this humble gesture earned your gratitude.
The path seems barely used as he continued towards the crystal waters. Loki could easily just use sorcery to fill the pail, but something about completing this task by hand felt right. As if the act would absolve him of any guilt from invading your space. While in hiding during the settlement of New Asgard, Loki had promised himself that he would rely less on his magic, and attempt to live as a man more than just his title.

When Thanos wiped out half the refugees, Loki had dropped his ego, his self-preservation instincts, and decided to protect others for a change. Although his plan didn’t quite work out. The projection of himself betraying Thanos was a mere distraction. Something to hold his attention while the god truly stabbed him in the back. The clatter of the dagger hitting the floor was the first harbinger. Loki didn’t have much time to pull this off, but hearing his own gasping breaths stilled his heart. He couldn’t do it. As badly as he wanted to save Thor, to protect his people, he had already failed. His choice to bring the Tesseract was what drew Thanos to the ship. His choice to place the Allfather under a spell and leave him to weaken led to Hela’s escape, and thus Ragnarok. Loki’s life was a series of wrong choices. Of failures. Losses. Over and over, all his actions were in vain. He had finally made the right choice, to try his best to help, to be good, only for it to fail right before his eyes. Thanos dropped the limp projection next to Thor. Unable to watch the pain contort his brother’s face, Loki turned and quickly made his way to the escape pod Thanos was allowing to leave. He shapeshifted and hid amongst the remainders of his people.

He hadn’t changed. He left Thor to die in his fear. All of his progress during the last months were gone. All redemption, gone in a fleeting moment. He swore, as the ship exploded in the distance, that he wouldn’t allow his actions to harm anyone else. He swore to be better, to be someone his mother and brother would have been proud of. He couldn’t keep bringing bad luck to his people, with so few left, he had no choice. Loki did what he does best, he ran away. He fled, only to bring that bad luck with him to one of the first Midgardians he came across. Somehow, you weren’t upset about this bad luck. Yes, he startled you and it was unintentional, but he had caused you an inconvenience. By the Norns, he had only even come to your cabin because his utilities were out and needed direction to the well pump. If he would use his sorcery it would be for a good, logical, reason. Loki could see your cabin from the window of his own, tucked further away in the trees. He had used magic to make it upon his arrival, choosing the location solely after seeing the name Jotunheimen National Park on a map. It seemed fitting. If he couldn’t live up to the Odinson name, he would stick with being the rightful king of Jotunheim.

Loki considered himself lucky as he filled the bucket and headed back up the hill. Maybe, despite how he had truly fucked up his last attempt at making the “right” decision, he could help himself by helping you. You didn’t seem too terribly angry with him, perhaps a tad uncomfortable as he tried to console you but it wasn’t exactly something he had much practice with. Loki really did feel that his actions might make it up to you, his intentions were never to scare you, but the least he could do was complete the manual labor while you dried off. Your praise though had made a new feeling bloom in his chest. It wasn’t the pride he felt when one of his pranks played out, or when he sat on the throne. This feeling was reminiscent of when he was a young boy. When his mother, Queen Frigga, had praised him the first time he used his seidr. Magic bloomed from his hand, held gently in his mother’s palm, as small green sparks erupted into miniature fireworks. Frigga’s smile was forever implanted into his memory, the pride he felt was unforgettable. This feeling wasn’t quite the same, but it was close, it was more than he had felt in ages.

At the door to the cabin, you kicked off your soggy boots, tracking wet footprints across the wooden floor. You changed quickly out of your wet clothes, nice warm socks and a pair of fleece-lined black leggings would be presentable enough. He was just going to bring the water and leave, it's not like you wanted company anyway. You didn’t need to be rude though, even if you didn’t want guests you could still act like a normal person, or at least try to. Be presentable, be kind, thank him for his help and then usher him out. No big deal, it would be just like your grocery trips. Short, sweet, and over with. When you were done dressing you looked around the messy room. With so few possessions how did it become so chaotic in here? You laced up your high tops and headed towards the porch, content with not letting the stranger see the interior of your cottage.

The porch steps creaked as you closed the door, looking up to see a soft smirk splayed across the stranger’s face. He held up the bucket, “You disinfect it first, yes? Can’t have gone to all that work just to have you poisoned.”

You chuckled lightly. Wow, when had been the last time you laughed? “I boil it, but you can test it first if you’d like,” you smirked back. He looked down quickly, trying not to laugh at the notion of the water affecting him. He was a god after all, and the water seemed quite clean already. You hesitated as you weighed the options of what to do next, without really deciding the words spilled from your lips, “Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?”

Loki met your gaze. The ice held in your eyes before seemed to be thawing. Loki couldn’t quite help it, something about you drew him in despite the desire to be alone. He smiled, taking a step towards you before uttering a reply that shocked the both of you, “It would be a pleasure to join you.”