Unburdened

The sun was well above the horizon by the time you had stoked the fire and boiled the water. You used up the last of your firewood and would need to cut more later. At least the small oak table in the kitchen was mostly clean, the rest of the house, ehh, not so much. Your laundry was laid out, half folded on the sofa. Countertops littered with utensils, vegetables out of their baskets, a spill from dinner last night you had yet to wipe up. Recovering from a traumatic event gives you a pass on being clean all the time. You brought over two mugs, the jar of honey, and a tea canister. The old floorboards creaked with each step as you made your way back to the table.

Loki lounged in the oak chair, one leg crossed over the other loosely. His long fingers fiddling with a match from the box resting on the corner. Twirling it gracefully in his fingertips. The fine wool suit jacket draped delicately on the back of the chair. His eyes were trained on the landscape out the adjacent window. The view of the mountains from here was breathtaking, it was impossible to not stare. Loki’s attention turned to you as you approached with full hands. He smiled faintly.

The silence was comfortable, a tad awkward maybe, but not unwelcome either. If your first time having a guest over was quiet, that was fine by you. The quiet was serene. Having company, yet not feeling expected to entertain was intriguing, but definitely something you could get used to. The clanking of the strainers in the canister and soft matching exhales filled the room as you prepared the tea with the visitor at your table.

“I, um,” you cleared your throat, dispelling the silence as you sat with Loki, “I wanted to thank you for bringing the water up.”

Loki looked over to you, his gaze lifting from his cup, “It was really no trouble, dear.” He brought the steaming cup to his lips, it was unlike any tea in Asgard, but it would do. “I sought you out for directions to the well, perhaps I could get it back in working order,” he said, not quite boastfully.

You scoffed, eyeing his attire once again, “Dressed like that, I didn’t take you for a plumber.”

His hand moved to his chest, jaw dropped in mock offense. “You wound me, dear, have you no faith that I could even hold a wrench?”

“I’m sure it’s the most you could do to fix it,” you laughed. “The electricity has been out for a few days, someone hit a pole out on the main road and knocked it out for the whole area. Not many people out here, so no real rush to fix it I guess.”

“You’re managing alright though?” He asked, an air of concern crossing his eyes.

Loki had no need for it himself, he could manage just fine without the utilities for a few days. Minimal sorcery was fine in his eyes, even with his new endeavors. If it was used for light in the darkness while the power was out he wasn’t really relying on the magic, it was a tool. Using it regularly for acts akin to his previous goals? That would be relying on sorcery. He needed to do this himself. Become who he was supposed to be on his own. He could use his tools, but not let them become who he was. Loki was a sorcerer, yes, but more than that he was a man, a brother, a son, a prince, a god. He was more than just his trickery, more than just his usefulness as a tool for others.

“No, I definitely need a stranger to come and save me from having to use a candle instead of a light switch,” the sarcasm dripped from your voice. “Though, if it means you fetch the water for a few days that could be alright. Have a little Princess Bride moment and say as you wish whenever you take care of something for me? I could get behind that.”

“Whatever fantasy you’ve conjured, I won’t be reenacting it.” He sneered as the casualty of the conversation drained from his voice, “I owed you for startling you, my debt is repaid.” His sharp jaw unclenched, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Already slipping from his new kind demeanor to his old venomous habits.

Your eyes widened at his suddenly serious tone. “Why stay then?” You countered quickly, “if this were about debts, you wouldn’t have stayed for tea. So why are you still here?”

Loki’s mouth gaped, opening and closing repeatedly as the words refused to move past his lips. You had an edge, something that intrigued him greatly. You were quick on your feet, words a weapon, capable of twisting things to meet your needs. All qualities he admired in a person, admired in himself. You certainly were interesting, a neighbor he would need to visit again. He questioned himself daily on whether he was making the right choice by hiding here, but today showed him that even if it was the wrong one, it was still the choice he would make.

“Perhaps,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “I might enjoy the company of a neighbor over a cup of tea. I cannot deny that I enjoy the view as well.” His eyes shifted to the window again, the bright day held grey clouds above the mountain tops. He turned to meet your gaze once again. “To be truthful, being alone can become quite taxing. I thought being alone through life was what I needed, yet it appears that I may have been wrong.”

It took guts to admit. Loki felt a pit in his stomach, an overwhelming urge to choke down the words, leave the room, and never look back. Something anchored him to the chair. Was it his hope to start a new chapter in his life, or was it the comfort of your presence? Your smile, the way you fiddle with the handle of your teacup, your kind eyes? What? What had entranced him so much that he would divulge his emotions? Feelings that deep down he still didn’t quite understand. Since losing his people, losing Thor, he couldn’t help but feel lonely. His interaction with you was his first in weeks, and he was honestly enjoying the company. Your laugh, the quick remarks. All things that kept him glued to his seat.

“Maybe a little company wouldn’t be terrible,” you replied barely above a whisper, almost as if it was meant only for your own ears. You basically considered yourself a monk with a vow of solitude when you made your way here. Truth be told, you were lonely. You were scared, and hurt, and wanted to start over where you didn’t need anyone to be whole. But who we are as people is complex. Our morals make the foundation, our likes and interests the supporting beams, and those we keep close make the walls. All this to shelter a heart, but without the walls, there’s nothing to stop the rain. And losing everyone? That shit was a flash flood. Being alone lets you clean up your mind, start to rebuild the structure. Maybe it was time to patch the holes.

“It seems we are more alike than I thought,” Loki hummed to himself, taking in your mini pep talk, the grief in your eyes. Two hermits bonded by the desire to be alone together. Quite the paradoxical thought crossing his mind. “Well then, neighbor, this makes us friends I suppose?” He asked feigning confidence, but the minuscule waver in his low voice told a different story. One of fear, terrified of rejection.

“I suppose it does,” you said, lifting your teacup to his for a satisfying clink. “Though, I still don’t even know your name. If you still plan on fetching the water, we can stick with Wesley.”

“My name is far more impressive, what kind of name is Wesley anyway?”

“It’s the name of every girl’s dream, he risked his life and went to the ends of the earth for his love,” you laughed in response.

Loki let out a hearty laugh, the mere idea of such a wonderful romance was hilarious. His brother was always in the limelight, maidens were drawn to him, never to the brother tucked into a book, hiding in the shadows. Loki never had much time for courting anyway, he was much too busy with his studies, with finding a way to be seen as an equal rather than the youngest of the family. That’s not to say he didn’t long for companionship through the centuries, it just wasn’t quite an option for him. There were certainly ladies he fancied, but none that appreciated his humor, none that quite made him feel whole.

“Well, darling,” he drew the word out, making the two syllables as long as possible. “I hardly know your name either. Though we can stick with the pet names if you prefer,” he smirked from the rim of the cup before taking a small sip, satisfied by his comeback.

“As you wish,” you teased. “My name is Emilia. And yours, my new friend?”

He faltered, knowing this information would be the true test of the budding friendship.

“I am Loki…Odinson.”