Well, this is not my first story, but it is my first to be published here. I hope that you enjoy :)
Loki had always found himself capable of manipulating people whom me disliked, and that was a great many. Almost the same number disliked him in return. He felt more justified in his feelings due to the fact that they were usually just reciprocated. It was no fault of his own, according to his mindset.
Unlike his brother, Loki didn't have many friends. He found the emotional investment in such relationships almost masochistic, as the closest friends he had seemed as if they were only cordial to him because of whom he had as a brother. He just didn't have the charisma to keep them as Thor did. Perhaps it was better. Or maybe Loki just liked to tell himself that for a sense of naïve reassurance.
The youngest son of Odin enjoyed the Vanir much more than the Aesir of his home. Among other things, he found them less prone to gossip and opulence, things that would quickly overwhelm one's senses in Asgard. The homes were wonderfully humble, and Loki wondered if he could find retreat here for at least a while without any word coming from Thor or Odin. He knew his brother loved him dearly when he happened to remember him, so a retreat would probably not be possible for long. Analyzing how his father would respond, Loki could think of nothing but a demand that he come back to Asgard only for him to not be too terribly needed.
With a sigh of frustration, the god ran his fingers through his already swept back hair before finding a seat on the barrier of a well-tended garden. It was hardly comfortable, and he laid back into a recline that almost looked defeated. Trying to disregard the feeling of hard planks that didn't conform to his spine, Loki eyed the flowers around him with interest. As much as he looked for a blemished blossom, there wasn't one to be found. Pulling a rose to his face, he caught the smell of perfume; it brought to mind the veil of scented particles that followed after the women at the Asgard banquets. Loki would smile politely, and they would grin back within amusement...
Fssssshhhh! Loki jumped at the sound of the bushes rustling most unnaturally, catching a glimpse of hand-spun gold that stuck to an outreaching stem. He knew instantly what was happening, and moved into a welcoming position with his features as calm as possible. "Come out now, little one. I won't hurt you..."
There was a quick little "No!", and then the plants became still again. Loki was reminded instantly of times when he and Thor would play hide and seek as children, when his brother would panic and retreat behind a pillar thinner than him, or just fall on the floor as if he wouldn't be seen. He smiled. "But you see, little one, I'm rather lonely here. I was hoping that perhaps you would come talk to me."
After a sequence of worried squeaks, a girl's head poked around the hydrangeas with caution. Her most distinguishing features were her sunlit hair and glassy blue eyes, the former a tangled mess and the later surrounded by a thicket of straight brown eyelashes. Her skin was comparable to a peach, and she had an almost tom-boyish quality to her. In her entirety she was not beautiful by any means, but instead adorable in her mannerisms. When Loki again asked her to come over, she tugged at her spirals nervously and bit her lip before approaching him with reluctance.
Up close, Loki realized that she was not Vanir; she had a rather human quality to her that was as obvious as the differences between short and long hair. Had she been Vanir, perhaps she would have been more attractive. She looked at him suspiciously, and all Loki could really do was smile gently back to assuage any fear she had for him. He had to try for quite a while, as she was very stubborn.
He spoke first to take the pressure off of her. " My name is Loki, should you want to know. And what's yours?"
She looked at him with furrowed little brows that sought to intimidate, but rather did the opposite. What an angry little thing, he thought with amusement. He was quite tempted to tousle her vines of hair, but he worried that she might take a bite from his arm.
There was a clearing of a throat that shocked Loki, and the child's face instantly brightened. He turned around and saw Njord, the man he had come all the way from Asgard to speak with. He was an older man with shoulder length gray hair and a beard, not unlike most Vanir men that age. Despite his common look, he had a staggering sense of strength that radiated off of him in a sort of aura. His eyes were steel, quite the same as the stormy waters that he ruled over, and he had very humble clothing that suggested he had been working for hours. If he had walked into Asgard like that, most of the residents would have thought him nothing.
The girl ran to Njord's leg (as that was all she could reach), and she wrapped her arms around his thigh. The corners of the man's lips turned in somewhat of a smile, "So Prince Loki, you've met my daughter, Sigyn. I hope she hasn't troubled you."
"No, of course not." the Aesir replied.
Njord had almost cut him off, seeming to expect Loki to say more. He was known for his way of talking to others even here, and Njord didn't want to listen to filler. The work at sea was rather tiring, and he had no time for such nonsense. He was not expecting Loki to act much differently.
"My love, I'm afraid the Prince has to come with me now. You can see him later."
Loki was surprised at this, as it seemed apparent that Sigyn didn't want to see him now, much less later on. She hugged Njord's leg tightly and scampered off into the farther reaches of the garden, looking back sadly at Loki. The prince noticed this, and his heart's beat fluctuated as though it had a separate mind. He frowned in confusion.
"Do not look so sad, Odinson." grunted Njord. "I will allow you to see her after our affairs are through if that is what you wish."
Loki felt as if he were caught in a lie (which almost never happened). "If you permit it. She doesn't seem too taken with me."
Njord just laughed, and Loki already found this behavior uncharacteristic of him. "Oh, Sigyn adores you. She acts cruelly for attention."
Loki found that typical of boys, never girls. However, he attributed it to living in Asgard, and Njord's presence in Sigyn's life would explain such. The god of the wind and sea was nothing but basically polite when it came to outsiders, particularly those from Asgard. Their conflicts in the past were not completely forgotten, mostly due to pride that was instilled to the marrow.
"So, Prince Loki... what business does the Allfather have today?"
The meeting sailed by pleasantly, with both dining on wine and Njord's harsh exterior cracking to expose something a bit kinder, but not so much that Loki could sit with ease. Nothing in their conversation was too new, and all of it was dreadfully political. Of course, Loki had the tongue and the patience for it, but Njord only had the second. He wasted no words, and moved on as quickly as possible.
"It has been a pleasure," said Loki, slightly bowing as needed when speaking to a king, but not yet bent completely at the waist, as he was a prince of a higher realm. "I will return when Allfather sees it fit."
Njord eyed him as if he detected something on Loki's mind that not even he knew of. He let it be, and returned the semi-bow. Without many other words, Loki exited Njord's mahogany-constructed conference room, only to be met by guards offering to escort him out. The prince declined such, and saw himself out of the palace. The wooden floors beneath his feet we more resounding than the golden ones of Asgard, and at this time of night it made him feel quite alone in a building that was only the size of a dining hall at home. However, he looked as he usually did: relatively content. His loneliness didn't show, as nothing ever did.
The double doors of Njord's keep were opened by four guards, and then closed right as Loki was outside and not in danger of having the doors graze him. He didn't look back until he heard a squeak from the side of the steps.
It was Sigyn, looking less angry than she did earlier. Loki felt his eyebrows raise, and then was surprised at the fact that he was surprised. "Did you wish to see me, little one?"
She looked down at her feet, then at Loki, and then down at her feet again before running to him. He thought she was about to kick him or something of the sort, but she stopped within two feet of him and gazed up at him with a sort of curiosity. Now that she didn't look as if she were wishing for him to die via her gaze, Sigyn was lovely. Lovely for a small child, lovely for one who was not a Vanir, and lovely for one who was cruel for attention.
Loki was a bit puzzled by the way she just looked at him, and then she opened her tiny blistered hands. In her palm was a silver ring, one obviously fit for only her fingers, and she thrust it at Loki. Seeing how demanding she was, Loki hesitantly took it. "A souvenir for my travels here?"
"No!" she snapped.
"Then what is it for, little one?"
She blushed furiously, and tugged at her curls rather forcefully. She wet her lips and squinted her eyes before shouting, "I want you to keep it... I want you to marry me one day!"
Loki's stomach dropped. Oh... this is rather awkward... He ran his fingers through his hair, not knowing what to say to the child lest she run off wailing to Njord. He knew exactly what to say to one who was older, but he predicted glass breaking beneath his feet should he say something offensive.
He wanted to say that he wasn't too interested.
He wanted to say that he was not willing to accept the ring.
He wanted to say that maybe when she was older he would give her an answer.
Instead, he shouted, "Heimdall!"
A beam of the Bifrost came crashing down onto him, lifting him back to Asgard within a matter of seconds. It felt as if Heimdall himself had reached down, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and yanked him miles up into the abyss with force strong enough to break through the rainbow bridge itself. He barely even saw Sigyn's reaction, but he felt that ignoring the question was better than any answer he could have possibly given her.
Loki caught his footing on the floor of the observatory, once again in the realm of Asgard. Heimdall stood steadfast as usual, probably knowing what he saw but not speaking. Loki shot him a defensive glare, as if communicating "You would do the same." Odin's son was eager to retire.