Disclaimer: I own NOTHING you may recognize from the MCU or Marvel comics. Just Murielle...and her OC's.
Chapter IX
They had come to a stop at an open meadow, deep within the expansive forest. Sunlight poured in through the full trees, and the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. With the sun fully risen, the sky was a clear blue with no clouds in sight. Everything was quiet here, and the young prince couldn't help but wonder how deep into the forest they had gone. Loki dismounted first, preparing to help Murielle down from her own horse, before he realized she had already done so. She was full of secrets and he wanted to know them all. He'd never met anyone like her. Most of the other elves were afraid of him or treated him with the same disrespect and fear that the rest of Asgard did. Murielle wasn't afraid of him, and it was refreshing to find someone outside of his family who felt that way.
"Glad to see you could keep up," she teased, turning her amber eyes towards him. Several strands of hair had broken free of the braid she wore and framed her flushed cheeks.
"Not very many could ride as well as you do."
She rolled her eyes at him and knelt down on the grass. He watched her run her hands over the green blades and was puzzled when he saw soft swirls of grey and silver pour from the palms of her hands and rest upon the earth. He could only assume that this was a small manifestation of her magic and he watched as it slowly crept away from them leaving a small trail in its wake.
"We must follow it," Murielle said, taking his hand and pulling him along.
"Why?" He asked, allowing himself to be guided through the dense trees.
"If allowed to run free, magic can accomplish tasks you need without much effort. We need to find not just a good place to plant the tree, but the best place."
"And magic is the best way to do that?"
"With pure intent, it's the only way."
He shook his head not quite understanding her way of thinking. It was strange, and foreign to him, and he couldn't imagine how her people lived with such an idea.
"Are you saying that magic has a free will? A mind of its own?"
"I'm saying that you can't control magic any more than it can control you." Murielle didn't talk to him as if he were a child, with simple knowledge and no way of understanding. "I understand that none of this makes sense, but I cannot really tell you how this all works without taking you to Alfheim. And that is not something I am willing to do."
"And why not?"
Murielle didn't immediately reply and released him. He followed behind her, suddenly missing the contact, and watched as she followed the silver trail in front of her. When he glanced behind, the magic had disappeared so that they would be the only ones to follow the path. He'd never seen anything like this, or read anything that would explain how magic like this worked. What was her secret? Could she teach him?
"My people don't take too well to outsiders. At least, not those who would view us with the eyes of spectators. We welcome all who wish to join our way of life, but it's really for our protection."
Loki could easily understand if Alfheim was a realm full of advances that would make them a threat against Asgard. But the elves that he knew weren't capable of such things. He'd seen the High Countree with his own eyes, disguised of course, and while it was a beautiful place, there seemed to be very little substance to it. Was Thyscar so very different?
He opted to turn the conversation to something that she would be more inclined to talk about: her mother. The look on her face when she thought about her mother, took his breath away. A soft smile crept across her lips, and her eyes took on a very faraway look.
"My mother, is perfect," she replied, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's been the two of us since I was born, and I think it always will be that way. She's taught me everything I know, and answered all of my questions about her life before living in Thyscar."
"Why couldn't she stay with her family when she left here?"
Murielle stopped walking and turned dark eyes up to him. "Mother didn't leave here, Your Highness." Her voice was soft but forceful, as if she were trying desperately to keep her temper in check. "Your father exiled my mother when her dalliance with my father was discovered, and her own family didn't take her back. She had no choice but to go Thyscar, and while I am not happy with what happened with her, while I do not agree with the sentence that was given to her, I am ever grateful that everything happened the way it did, because I had the opportunity to be born into a community that values each other, regardless of rank or situation of birth."
She turned away from him, and Loki couldn't help but feel a smile tug at his lips. She was feisty and always changing. She had her opinions and wasn't afraid to give them to anyone, regardless of whether or not they were listening or had asked for them.
"This is the place," she whispered, stopping at the edge of a trickling river. "Do you know where this river ends?"
"If I'm not mistaken, this river deposits into the rest of the water supply which everyone in Asgard partakes of."
"Of course," she replied, cryptically, the soft smile on her lips again. "May I have the plant please?"
Loki raised his hand and with a wave of his fingers, the gift Murielle had offered appear. He gave it to her, which she carefully took. Laying the simple pot on the ground, Murielle dug out the small tree and placed it on the ground where her magic from earlier had formed an open circle. As soon as the roots of the tree touched the ground, the grey swirls seeped into the tree and took hold of the tender roots. With little help from her, the roots were pulled into the ground, burying themselves so that they could grow.
With her hands still on the tree, he watched Murielle bow her head and offer what must have been a prayer. It was all in elven and he was unable to understand. The wind picked up slightly and the water in the river rushed a little faster. Loki having a good understanding magic and being somewhat attuned to it, could feel as if they were not entirely alone at this river's edge. The magic felt old, but not in a sense that it had been worn down and was decrepit with age. Rather, it was wise and full of power. When Murielle was finished, the feeling also left, leaving Loki defensive rather than afraid.
"What was that?" He asked, when Murielle rose to her feet and dusted off her pants. The wind had completely undone her braid and her thick black hair hung loosely about her frame. Her eyes seemed to have a faint glow in them, as if a fire burnt deep within her soul.
"A prayer," she answered, rubbing her hands together. "That Asgard might know peace, prosperity, and protection."
He wanted to laugh, but the look of reverence on her face stopped all mirth. But the question he could not avoid.
"Why do you think Asgard would need your realm's protection?"
"I don't," she replied. "That would be a foolish notion. Asgard is a place far more advanced than my realm with better ways to protect itself against invaders."
"Then why…"
"As a gesture of good will. My Countree, while maybe not the most advanced of civilizations, has a deep understanding of our history….of tradition. I would have said this same prayer and given the same reverence if your mother wanted to have this planted on the window in her bathroom."
Loki took her hands in his and stared at her palms. "Your people are so strange, my lady."
She chuckled, and withdrew her hands from his. "Ma serannas, Your Highness. Not so many people are so kind with their words."
Loki tried to repeat her elven phrase, confused at what he was even trying to say.
"It means, 'thank you,'" she replied hastily rebraiding her hair from the neck down.
"I assumed as much. Do you think you could teach me?"
Murielle looked up at him, her eyes wide and slightly watery. She placed a hand over her lips but he could not tell if she was suppressing a laugh or a cry.
"I'm sorry if I…"
"No, Your Highness." She stepped forward and took his hands in her own. "Ir abelas…I am sorry, if I made you think…" Murielle chuckled. "You have to understand, I went to school being taught so many things. I rarely had time to teach people what I know. My culture…my way of life. You ask me questions without any judgement, something that has never happened to me. And now you ask me to teach you my language."
Murielle laughed and wiped at her teary eyes.
"So…you'll teach me."
"It shall be an honor, Prince Loki."
They walked slowly back to their horses, Murielle trying to teach him a few simple words: adahl for tree, da'len for child, ada for father, and nana for mother. While he wanted to learn how to converse with her, he accepted the basic things she taught him, hoping that they'd have more time together before she left. Dinner was but a couple hours away by the time they reached their horses.
"I should like to visit this place again before I leave, if that suits Your Highness," she called back to him.
Loki ran to catch up with her, still reeling from what he had just witnessed. "I think that can be arranged. Consider Estrid yours until you leave."
"Are you saying that she'd be mine as long as I remain on Asgard?" Murielle smiled at him, and Loki was impressed. She understood his meaning.
"Tell me your childhood," she said, bumping into him in a playful manner. "What is it like growing up as an heir to the throne?"
"More like the spare to the throne, mir hiril." Loki wondered about the slight blush that crept up her cheeks when he addressed her as 'my lady' but using the elven phrase. Instead of wondering about other ways to see that pretty blush creep up her cheeks, he focused on the question at hand. Odin had always made it apparent who the favored son was, no matter how hard he tried. "Thor is the eldest."
"That is true, but you are still a prince. That comes with its own responsibilities."
"Thor oversees a lot of the away missions, if a realm is in trouble or should a war break out. I assist Mother in more of the dignitary aspect. I fight better with words."
"With that same charm and manner as our first meeting no doubt," Murielle laughed, but it stopped when Loki reached out and took her hand.
"I am sorry about that, my lady. I guess I did sort of judge the entire race of elves and not really take care to treat you how you should be treated."
He was sorry for how he had spoken to her. While he hadn't been filled with contrition and regret, he could have handled his first conversation with her better.
Murielle looked up at him confused. "Your Highness, I did not say that with any sort of intent for you to apologize. If you haven't realized, I prefer people to speak their mind and to be honest. To be anything less than you are would be a lie."
They continued their conversation all the way back to where their horses grazed, and on their slow journey back to the palace. Loki told her of some of the pranks he pulled on others, to which he was rewarded with one of her bell-like laughs. He recounted missions where his brother acted without thinking, and some of the books he had recently been studying.
As they approached the palace, they rode their horses through town, giving Murielle a better glimpse of some of the shops and the people. Loki was keenly aware of some of the looks he was getting and the glances his companion was receiving from a few of the Asgardians. Loki knew he wasn't well liked amongst many, and that had been his own doing, but Murielle hadn't done anything to warrant such animosity, with the exception of being with him in town.
He watched her. Both of them had dismounted, and were carrying their horses' tethers and were casually walking through the main streets. She was kind to everyone who greeted her, which caused some confusion, and spoke to anyone who addressed her. She smiled at everyone, and knelt down to the level of any child who stopped to talk.
He felt a strange feeling in his heart. She could very easily be well liked and well loved by the Asgardian people. But by associating with him, that image could easily be tarnished. He didn't like how just by being with him, she would appear less in the eyes of others.
It was a feeling that greatly perturbed him….and was one that he did not want to closely examine.
