Chapter 10

The Many Kids of Loki Laufeyson

Though he still makes me do all the chores, and still acts like a major dick, Loki seems... subdued.

He occasionally does his trade mark pranks (as he always does), but they seem a bit lacking. When we argue, there's a sombre tone to his voice. It sounds almost like he's apologising to me; a tone that completely clashes with the words he would throw at me. I know what this change is all about, and I know why he acts like this when he's around me.

But that doesn't mean I have to accept it. After all, if he can't feel guilt and regret for the hundreds of people he'd killed and endangered when he had attacked Earth before hand, then why would he feel so bad about little old me? I'm nothing. Not really...

Yet here he is, staring at me again as I clean the pile of dishes from the night before. I finish drying the last dish with a sigh, and turn to face the man who has apparently developed a baby conscience.

"Okay, what's up?" I finally ask him. He tries to look innocent and confused.

"I do not know what you're-"

"Cut the bullshit," I interrupt him briskly. "You're moping around and you're actually acting like half the dick you usually are. Now, I know you're a complete bastard any other time so just cut the crap, 'cause you're seriously creeping me the fuck out!" I exclaim loudly. Loki leans back slightly, looking a little surprised at my outburst.

"I... apologize," he says in obvious confusion. "I had not known that you would feel offended..."

"Fuck yeah, I feel offended!" I exclaim, but then I pause to think that answer over a little. "Well... Not offended, but definitely a little confused!"

"Why are you confused?" He asks me, watching at me as though I'm a curiosity. "Is it not obvious?"

"Is what not obvious?" I ask in exasperation. He really isn't the best at explaining things...

"I had hurt you," he explains slowly, like I were a child. "With my own magic. My own being! Upon harming you so terribly, it made me realise some things that forced me to re-evaluate a few facts I had never even thought of until then."

"And what's that?" I ask him gently. He tenses slightly.

"That mortals truly are incredibly weak," he says, but something seems a little off about that comment.

"And...?" I ask him, willing him to elaborate. He remains silent, though; his book forgotten beside him from where he sits on the couch.

"You said you realised several things," I press. I know it's nothing important, but I've always been a nosey bitch and this more sullen creature just ain't Loki.

"I..." His voice fades, and I can almost see his brain working to find the right words to explain his reasoning. "I have grown... fond of you," he says at last. I stare at him.

"You've grown... fond of me?" I repeat, though not really feeling all that surprised.

"Yes, Shana," he says, looking a little annoyed. "It is hardly surprising, after weeks of your company. But while I doubt I would call you my friend, I certainly feel rather fond of you," he finishes softly; an odd light of something shines in his eyes.

"Oh," I breathe after a short silence. "Well, I'll consider that a friendly and purely platonic friendship proposal," I say with a grin. "Now you just need to go into the market and nab us some friendship rings!"

"Though I do not know what you mean by 'friendship rings,'" he sneers a little at the words, "I most certainly think not."

"Spoil sport," I grumble. "Here I thought you saying that you think of me as your bestie was a precursor to us being best friends for eva!"

"By the Norns," Loki groans. "Just... clean the bathroom," he finally demands (read as: pleads).

Smirking, I saunter into the bathroom, with my hips swaying arrogantly. Loki's back, baby!

-BREAK-

I set the table; filling it with fruit, salad and my proudly perfected meats and fish (Loki had to abracadabra some heating spells on the meats so I could focus on them one at a time instead of having to race around like a headless chicken). I stand to the side, waiting for Loki to sit down and start eating. He piles his plate full of meat with a side serving of salad, but then stops. He frowns slightly, turning his gaze on me.

"Why don't you join me this time, Shana?" he asks softly. I stiffen in shock, my eyes widening at this odd request.

Perhaps I spoke too soon when I thought earlier that Loki's back to his former glory as a world class arsehole.

I frown as I look around for another chair, only to remember. There is no chair.

Nope, still an arsehole. I glare at him, causing him to chuckle slightly. He shakes his head at me and waves his hand, bringing forth a chair seemingly out of thin air; one that is far more elaborate than the one he's sitting on.

"Did you just make that chair appear out of thin air?" I ask a little stupidly. Loki scoffs, giving me a look that clearly states 'you're an idiot'.

"Of course I did, though I had no hand in creating it," he explains.

"But then why is it there if you didn't make it?" I ask him. After all, I kind of had the belief that for something to be created out of nothing, it had to be made out of nothing. Loki chuckles, shaking his head again at my apparent idiocy.

"You misunderstand," he says, gesturing for me to sit on the ornate chair. I obey cautiously and sit down on the surprisingly comfortable, well crafted chair. "Technically, it did 'appear out of thin air.' However, I did not create it; I had summoned it from the palace on Asgard."

"But..." I frown, realising a flaw in this genius' plan. "Wouldn't they start noticing all these vanishing books and furniture?" I ask him with a raised eyebrow. After all, I've got quite the suspicion that that is where most of the books and furniture inside this little cabin comes from.

"Oh, they know," Loki says flippantly as he starts to dig into his meal. "However, they do not know where the furniture is actually going, and I am almost certain that they would never suspect me to be living on Midgard." I frown at his arrogance. If there's one thing that films have taught me in all my years, it's that anything is possible. While Loki could very well be right about them never finding him in Midgard, I still think that he shouldn't put too much stock on how stupid he thinks his fellow Asgardians to be.

But I keep my mouth shut while dutifully filling my plate up with food. After all, if they find us, then I'll be free; if they don't, then I'll wait to see what weird sort of relationship might blossom between us. I still haven't got a name for it... it certainly isn't like how I feel towards my brother, but it's kind of like it. The word friendship is now starting to feel like too small an expression for this...

Shaking my head, I dig for something to talk about to fill the silence that has fallen over the table. Meanwhile, Loki is now half way through the giant chicken I had roasted.

"Say, Loki," I say, remembering something I had wanted to ask him about before. "You say that the myths got very little right..." my voice trails off as I try to think of the right wording.

"Yes?" He prompts me to continue after swallowing a mouthful of chicken.

"Then, tell me a little about your kids. Who and what they really are," I ask him eagerly. He looks at me in contemplation, clearly thinking on what he should tell me and whether he should say anything in the first place.

The silence begins to stretch.

"Okay, I get that you don't want to, I was just-" but he interrupts my fumbling.

"No, no, it's fine," he assures me. "They are not generally as interesting as the legends you Midgardians have created for them. Sleipnir is swift and agile and chose to become one of the greatest assassins of the Realms. But he was shunned for doing so, what with him being a sneak and a spy in a world ruled by brutish warriors," Loki says dryly. I chuckle, thinking of Thor and a Realm full of others like him.

"Why did people say that Sleipnir was Odin's favourite horse?" I ask him, remembering that particular side of the legend.

"That would be due to several reasons. For one, the steed was actually named after my son once we saw how fast he could run; this naturally lead to some misunderstandings," he shakes his head at what I assume is the idiocy of men. "For another, the steed was fast, and my son was fast. Over the years, I assume that the two bled together until the steed was my son. However, I know not where the tale of the stallion's birth came from," he says with an amused smirk.

"Well, I'm just glad that you're not seriously pissed at being mistaken as the mother of a bastard, eight legged foal," I say with a laugh as Loki rolls his eyes at the legends before returning his attention to the chicken.

"Oh, but I was in the beginning," he says as he calmly slices off a strip of meat. "However, as the years passed I began to see humour in the tale. I had already come to terms with the fact that brutish warriors will always mock me for my subtlety, and the legends that the old Vikings used to spread of me were hardly the worst. In fact," he says, handing me a second slither of meat which I accept in surprise. He grins mischievously, "I find many of them -as you would say- downright hilarious."

"Oh? And what's your favourite legend?" I ask him, intrigued by what the god would say about his own myths. He doesn't even think about it.

"It would certainly have to be the one where Thor and I dress as maidens," he says with a completely straight face. I gasp in the bite of chicken I had taken, and start choking on it, while Loki just watches in amusement. I cough hard before finally dislodging the chunk of meat, grimacing as my mouth gets reacquainted with that damned piece of chicken.

"Bastard," I gasp, rubbing my chest with a grimace as I reach out for a drink of water.

"So you frequently say," Loki says in clear, obvious amusement. "But we were previously talking about my children," he says; obviously trying to get the conversation back on track. I wordlessly wave my hand to get him talking, still drinking the water to sooth my aching throat.

"Vali and Narfi are also my children," he continues, pausing to take a small bite of his chicken. "However, their mother was not Sigyn -who was actually the mother of Sleipnir. Instead, it was a rather lovely elven woman who's name I honestly cannot recall."

"Oh, you womanizing rebel!" I exclaim with a devious grin, which he responds to with one his own. "So tell me, you big old pervert," I tease with a wink, "Are there other -ahem- 'accomplishments' that you'd like to tell me about?"

"Oh, there are many, Shana. Such as the tale of myself and the elven King's illegitimate son," my eyes immediately light up.

"Do tell," I lean forward, abruptly forgetting all about the food. "And please, spare no expense!"

"But I do recall that this conversation was supposed to be of my children," Loki states with mock regret. "Not my previous romantic exploits." I sag back into my chair; sulkily pushing at the fish I had placed on my plate with my fork. Loki continues talking while I sulk.

"As I was saying, Vali and Narfi are my children. They were raised by their mother and grew to become farmers on their land. I only knew who they truly were because of a chance quest in Alfheim that brought me to their farm, where I was greeting by two young men who looked suspiciously like myself," he explains. I snigger slightly at the thought of how he must have looked upon seeing the fruits of his one-nighter for the very first time in such a way.

"Do you have other kids running around, I wonder?" I ask him as I pop a grape in my mouth, enjoying the taste of it and the refreshing juices that burst out as I chew.

"Undoubtedly," he says in an offhand way as he puts the skeletal remains of the chicken aside.

When did he finish that? I wonder, thinking back on how little opportunity he had to stuff himself silly whilst he was talking.

"Although, I assure you that it can't be many," he continues, starting on some salmon that he'd helped me prepare. "I am usually rather careful that there are no unwanted illegitimate children, though I cannot say the same for Thor..." he murmurs the last part as he cuts a bite out of the fish.

"Gimme the gossip!" I blurt, my eyes wide and pleading.

"Ah, but there is still the supposed triplets," he says, again with the mock regret. I growl a little under breath.

"Fenrir and Jormungandr were both children I had with a lovely Vanir woman-" he begins, putting on a vague tone as though he were lost in memories.

"Who's name you can't recall?" I cut in slyly, he smirks.

"Oh, but how could I possibly forget about Myrim?" He asks me, his gaze suspiciously (legitimately, this time), distant.

"Can't possibly imagine how," I murmur.

With a name like 'Myrim'... Loki raises an amused eyebrow at me.

"Why, I do believe that is jealousy that I hear," he says with a smirk.

I scoff, "Bollocks!" I declare. "I just think she has a funny name, is all."

"Of course," Loki says, a knowing smirk still stuck on his face. "But as I was saying; Fenrir, who became a fine warrior by Asgardian standards, was often likened to a wolf. As such; as he had inherited my affinity with magic along with my sense of humour, he took to shape shifting into a wolf. Jormungandr -who often took to following after his brother- had taken to turning into a great snake; the sort of which can be found in the abandoned marshes of Svartalfheim. He had chosen this form as he was known to be the more sly of the two.

"As for Hela," Loki breaks off, staring into the distance.

"Why am I getting bad vibes?" I ask him cautiously as the silence stretches on. Loki finally snaps out of it, and explains.

"Hela's... other parent," he sneers the words, "Was a jotunn. I know not his real name, only that he was a jotunn mage who tricked me by taking the form of a beautiful Asgardian enchantress. I admittedly fell in love, which then led to him falling pregnant with a child whom he named Hela," Loki looks away in disgust.

"The jotunn fool then had the nerve to blackmail the Allfather with my illegitimate daughter, to which he was then punished with execution. As for Hela..." Loki trails off, a look of guilt crossing his face. "The innocent child was banished into Helheim, where I was also banished as punishment for my lack of forethought. I was to raise her to become a ruler of the dead- Odin's way to show kindness to his granddaughter and his 'son,'" Loki sneers, glaring darkly into nothing. "At least my lust had been greatly decreased, however," he finishes softly. I frown; feeling sad for Loki and his daughter, and angry at Odin. While Loki might have made a mistake, I don't think it quite deserved punishing not just him but his young daughter, also...

"But... isn't Helheim where dead people go?" I ask him, confused on how he got there and back alive.

"As Helheim is considered one of the Nine Realms, there are ways that it can be travelled to by the living. However, it takes a great amount of energy and power to accomplish, which ultimately led to Odin falling under the Odinsleep for several centuries," he seems quite triumphant about that, not that I really blame him...

"There are other children," he continues, "some died many years ago due to their mothers being mortal, while my only other Asgardian daughter, Bjergr, was viciously killed and has since been forgotten by most." We both fall silent again at the dark note the conversation had fallen into. In an attempt at replacing that dark look on his face with something else, I decide to make a risky joke.

"You know... Bjergr sounds kind of like Burger..." I say, waiting for either an outburst or a raised eyebrow. He just stares blankly at me.

"Did you just liken my daughter to a... a Midgardian sandwich?" He asks in shock. I shrug.

"S'pose so," I mumble, digging into my food fervently even though I am now more or less full. Although I can't see him, I can certainly hear the silence coming from his end of the table.

Silence which is then broken by a soft chuckle and the sound of cutlery scraping on ceramic.