Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, nothing is for profit.
Chapter 8: Sorceries
He didn't hear her come in to his cell, but wasn't surprised the next morning when he looked up from a book his mother had sent to see Lora standing in front of his cell door.
She was wearing a short green school dress, with tall brown boots and her hair up in a tight intricately braided bun. She was clutching her textbook so tightly to her chest he was surprised that it hadn't split in two.
"I only need help on one question, I just would like for you to please answer it quickly, and I am going to be on my way." she told him.
His answer was a smirk and a bow as he pulled out one of two chairs for her to sit down at the table he had inside his cell (Courtesy of his mother).
He casually mentioned that he liked her dress, he told her it was a nice color on her as he pushed her chair back to the table when she had sat down, but she ignored the comment and got strait to business.
"Alright. So I know all of the technical information for this class, I've practically memorized this textbook; taking a written test won't be a problem. The problem is that at the end of the semester the teacher requires-
"-a demonstration of magical application." Loki could recall some of the disastrous demonstrations that students of the past had made. He remembered someone who was attempting to cloak a piece of fruit with an invisibility spell and ended up vanishing their own hand. One person, attempting to change the language in a book with a translation spell, ended up only being able to speak that language. He could also recall someone once going blind, and although he didn't see it, didn't someone once actually die? Didn't he hear about that somewhere?
Yes, he had observed these pitiful attempts at sorcery, and their epic failures. They were among his fondest memories. Only a select few had the power to truly use magic, it was an abomination to make these weaklings try.
"You know?" she asked surprised.
"Indeed I do. What about the demonstration do you need help with?"
"Everything."
Loki let out a deep breath. "I see. You struggle with using magic? Well, to be honest with you, it's only the people who aim beyond their reach that end up doing poorly. Stick with something simple, perhaps stopping the sand in an hourglass, or changing the color in a jar of ink. Your professor will be impressed with any amount of magic, no matter how small, as long as it is done correctly."
"It's not that I struggle, I can't do it. Nothing. Not even the simplest spell in this book."
"Not even one?" he asked, the disdain evident in his voice.
"No, there are some people who just can't do certain things, you know, and that's something I just don't have a talent for."
"Well that's…pathetic."
She stood up sharply, her purple eyes glaring. "I thought you were going to help, me not insult me."
"How can I teach a bird to fly when it has no wings?"
She turned her face away sharply so he wouldn't see her eyes start to water. She was sensitive about her inability to do magic, and she didn't need this from him.
As she gathered up her textbook he, still sitting, wrapped one of his long pale hands around her skinny arm and pulled her back down into her seat, sharply.
"Don't worry my dear, I can still help you. There's only one thing that I am better at than magic. Do you know what it is?"
She shook her said.
"Lying." he said smiling.
"What are you saying?" she asked suspiciously.
"I can show you how to make your professor think that you performed magic, quite efficiently."
"Cheating? No, I couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to everyone else in class. And I could get in a lot of trouble if I get caught. I could get expelled."
"So don't get caught." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Before she stopped to think she found herself retorting, "Oh, like that's something you know about."
He froze. And when she dared look up at him his teeth were clenched and his eyes were two blocks of green ice staring at her.
"What did you just say?"
She didn't respond, but kept looking at him with what she hoped was a non-threatening expression on her face.
"You don't know anything you ignorant little twit."
"I'm sorry," she said hesitantly, "I wasn't trying to upset you. Please, tell me how to fake this experiment. I would like to know."
He calmed down enough to raise an eyebrow at her and tell her a list of things she would need, how to get them, and what to do with them.
"And you're sure this will work?" she asked when she had written down what he had told her to get.
"Don't ever question my judgment."
"Well I can't promise you that, but if you say this will work, I will believe you."
"If it doesn't work the first time, you have months to perfect it until the end of the term."
"O.K. I suppose I should be going now."
They stood up at the same time and he walked with her to the door of his cell.
"Um.. Loki?"
He stared down at her questioningly.
"Before I go, could you, um…" she trailed off feeling ridiculous.
"What is it?" he said, curiosity written plain on his face.
"Well… could you show me some real magic, before I go? Just once?" Among the most popular rumors that circled about the second prince was his absolute mastery of magic. Although he often put his abilities to devious use, he was said to be vastly skilled all the same.
A bright smile grew on his face as he closed both of his hands together. When he opened them up, imaginary fireflies came out and lit up the room around them like a thousand little glowing candles.
She involuntarily breathed out a quiet gasp of excitement and stared wide-eyed up around the room. "Amazing." she said as she stared up at him still wide-eyed and open mouthed in wonder. "And they are just illusions?"
His smile grew wider at witnessing her amazement. He was pleased with her reaction, to say the least. Loki had always loved it when people admired his skills. "Yes, but before you go, I'll leave you with something real."
He instructed her to open her hand, and he reached out gently to take her small hand in his large one. He took his other hand and closed both of his hands around her one.
For a minute he just stared at her, while he held her hand. She locked eyes with him and waited patiently for him to do something.
"This I made specially for you." he said softly before releasing her eyes and hand.
When she opened it up, there was a small pebble in her palm.
She was confused and somewhat worried looking at the little pebble, wondering what that could mean, or if it was somehow dangerous. But she thanked him politely all the same before leaving for the day.
…..
She took the pebble out of her pocket that night when she went to sleep, and put it on the table by her bed.
When she had woken up, the pebble had turned into a beautifully delicate rose, complete with stem and thorns.
When she opened her window to let light into her room, and saw that the rose was a bright, rich violet; the exact color of her eyes.
