Escapades
He found her crying in a far corner of the library, in her favorite nook by a window overlooking the city. She was reading some strange Midgardian literature – newspapers, she said they were called – with tears rolling down her face. A whole pile of the things was strewn around her, showing horrifying images of piles of bodies, skeleton-like humans, barracks, tanks, soldiers.
He wasn’t even looking for her, he was looking for a book, on his way back from a conversation with Sif that was going to turn to immense entertainment later that night, but The Librarian had hinted that perhaps he should look in on Lady Kate.
She looked up just as he took a breath to speak, brown eyes glistening, and he’d lost his train of thought.
“I’m a monster,” Kate said.
Loki gaped at her. Why in Hel would she say that?
“Why in Hel would you say that?”
She gestured towards the Midgardian papers around her, “I’m one of them, aren’t I?” She picked up a paper and shoved it in his hand, “look at what they’ve been doing.” He looked, and it made him sick to his stomach. He tried not to follow the Midgardians too closely, there were far more interesting creatures in the universe, but whenever he looked, they made his eyes roll at best, his stomach turn at worst. He wasn’t Asgard’s favorite son, but none of his games ever caused any of the things the humans have been doing to each other.
“You’re not like that,” he said quietly. “They’re not all like that,” and that was true if only because she wasn’t like that. One exception was enough. Although he’d occasionally met others, back when he bothered to go and look. He lost his taste for the Midgardians after he took Kate.
“You don’t know that. You don’t know what I could do. You don’t know anything.”
“Right,” he said slowly. Clearly, this was no time for talking sense. “I’ll see you after dinner.”
***
It bothered him. That haunted look in her eyes. The dull expression. She didn’t even try to properly fight him, and he grew irritated and sick of her and dismissed her shortly after they’d begun. He spent some time sitting, unseen, on a cushioned chair in Thor’s room, and watched Sif tear into his brother for something the tall blonde hadn’t actually done. It cheered him up for a bit, but it didn’t take Sif too long to figure out who was really to blame, so Loki hurried to leave the room and hide somewhere they wouldn’t know to look, before she went hunting for him.
He considered, briefly, to let her catch him and see where it goes. It was fun that one time. But he suspected that in her current mood the only place he would go after a bout with Sif was the infirmary, and he’d have nothing fun to remember the night for.
No matter. There were many places to hide in the universe.
***
“I know you’re there,” Kate said, eyes opening and focusing on him in the dark room. He stood just inside her door, hovering, deciding whether his plan was a good idea or not.
“Get up,” he said. “We’re going out.”
“Out where?”
“Out.”
They stood in the line to the theatre, Loki’s arm draped casually over Kate’s shoulder. She was looking at him, giggling at his outfit. Her own was almost evoking a similar reaction from him. He’d glamoured them into something to blend in with the surroundings, as much as he could. The loose green-and-gold blouse he was wearing mostly unbuttoned almost made him cringe, but the way Kate’s eyes kept darting to his bare chest was enough to make him keep it, even if she couldn’t stop laughing. He’d gotten his own back, putting her in an equally painful outfit, topping it off with platform shoes that made her curse and hold on to him. There was no downside to this arrangement.
It took her a bit of time to get into the mood, to enjoy herself at the concert, but when she finally got it, when she relaxed and started dancing to the music and let the frenzy of the crowd infect her, it was beautiful. She was beautiful. And she was finally properly smiling again.
***
The underground club was smoky, the different colored flickering lights made it hard to focus, not that he had much to focus on outside of his immediate surroundings. The music was loud and unusual but, he discovered, quite to his liking. So was the girl sitting on his lap. From the corner of his eye, he watched Kate sitting at the next table, chatting to a group of young punks. Punks. He tossed the word in his mouth, didn’t really like it.
He was confident in her ability to unman each and every one of them should the need arise, but she wasn’t. So he kept an eye out, just in case. He wasn’t doing a very good job, because for the longest time he didn’t suspect anything was wrong as Kate danced. Not until she attempted to take her shirt off. That was entirely unexpected.
“What are you doing?” he caught her, pulled her shirt back down. Someone behind him protested and got an elbow to their windpipe.
“I’m an orange,” she said, slurring her words. “I’m peeling.”
“What? Stop, look at me,” she kept squirming away as he pulled her off the dancefloor and up against a wall, under a dim lamp. Her pupils were blown wide. He ran a hand in the air around her, copying his mother’s quick spell. Something was wrong with her, it lit up all through her system. He’d never seen anything like it. “Come here,” he pulled her after him to the back room of the club, hiding them from the big security guard, clearing away anyone else who got in the way without much thought. He closed the door behind them and with a flick of his fingers, made sure no-one but him could open it.
“Sit,” he sat her on a dirty sofa.
Kate immediately stood up, “nooooooo.”
He was growing tired of this, he flicked a wrist and she was pushed down on the sofa, held in place, “Sit.”
“Loooooki,” she pulled against her invisible restraints.
Something was definitely wrong. He hadn’t heard her address him by his name since she grew intelligent enough to properly banter with. She kept talking, but he ignored her, focusing on unraveling whatever it was that made her… this.
It took longer than expected and had him tired from using magic more complex than he thought he’d need. Kate was staring at him, somewhat shocked, her hands shaking at her sides, still strapped to her body with magic.
“You’ll behave now?” Loki asked, dropping to the sofa beside her, stretching his boot-clad legs in front of him. Kate nodded, and he undid the bonds. He leaned his head back against the head of the sofa and closed his eyes.
She was staring. He waited for her to stop, but she didn’t.
Eventually he opened an eye, raised an eyebrow. She shrugged but kept staring.
“What?” he asked once he realized he couldn’t stare her into talking.
“You should only wear this,” she gave him a small smile, her eyes sparkling.
He looked down at himself, at the outfit he’d chosen to blend in, garments he wouldn’t be caught dead in in Asgard. Garments Asgard hasn’t ever even heard of. Black blouse, tucked into dark grey jeans, tucked into black combat boots. A black leather jacket. A touch of black kohl around his eyes. There were too many studs on everything, and some chains linking bits of clothing that didn’t necessarily need to be linked. Some thick leather bracelets on his wrists. He even did his hair up in that atrocious cockerel comb they called a Mohawk. Father would disown him if he saw. Thor would never ever stop laughing at him. But he’d actually quite liked the look, in a perverse sort of way. Because Father would disown him, probably.
He looked her up and down, fishnets to cut-off jeans to white blouse, studs and chains and all, a leather band tight around her neck drawing the eye much more than expected. She'd lost her jacket somewhere. Assessed his choice of wardrobe for her, then shook his head, “and you shouldn’t wear anything at all, kitten.”
Let her chew on that for a while.
***
They watched the first Midgardian set foot on their moon; on a small grainy black-and-white concoction the Midgardians called a television. The Midgardian wore a ridiculous garment meant to protect him, and Loki wondered whether he’d need to fashion something similarly horrific for Kate, if she suddenly decided she also wanted to set foot on that moon. He’d never thought about that.
He was relieved when she hadn’t asked.
***
The crowd of people would have put an Asgardian parade to shame. They stood, impatiently waiting to get into the field where they’ve been promised concerts by some of the greatest. Nothing was moving fast enough. Loki looked around, put a hand on Kate’s shoulder and whispered in her ear: “watch this.”
A moment later several images of him appeared throughout the crowd, disappearing into the distance. A few minutes later they’ve stormed the fences. He caught the panicky look on the faces of those who must’ve been responsible for organizing the whole thing and grinned.
It was rainy and muddy, half the Midgardians not entirely there, happily floating in an artificial buzz created by chemicals he’d warned Kate to stay away from.
He didn’t expect it to last three days.
He didn’t expect Kate to refuse to leave until the end.
And he certainly didn’t expect her to enjoy trudging around soaked to the bone, refusing his magic of dry clothes, laughing at him to lighten up, tying a green band around his forehead.
Lady Kate of Midgard, telling Loki Odinson to lighten up. Somewhere along the way something went very sideways with his plan.
***
“Loki Odinson, Catriona daughter of Seamus the Tanner,” the voice boomed through the hall and they all froze. Father’s voice had long ago stopped being a source of anything but irritation for him, calling out their full names like that meant nothing but trouble. He looked at Kate, perched on the settee across the room from him, eyes blown wide in a panicky expression. Father had very rarely even acknowledged her presence in court.
“What have you done now, little brother?” Thor asked, tossing Mjolnir in the air, watching it spin. Sif and his other friends, all hanging about as if they’d had nothing else to do, turned to listen.
Loki shrugged. There were too many things to choose from.
The source of the voice appeared in the doorway, “You’re banned from Midgard.” One eye somehow managed to include them both in the statement, and then he was gone.
Oh. That. He was growing bored anyway.
“What have you done, little brother?” Thor asked again.
Loki shrugged, “just suggested some ideas, talked to some people.”
“With the result of…?” Kate prompted.
He shrugged again, “Less chaos than I expected. Some dead rulers, lottery draft, some protests. Woodstock,” he grinned at Kate. They had fun there. “Except for the moon landing. I hadn’t expected them to actually comprehend the information I’ve provided. Now they’ve got their probes out, that’s probably why Father is angry.”
“When?” she asked, “you were always with me.”
He blinked and a projection of him stood next to her, “I can multi-task,” it said, then disappeared.