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Cicada
Over the next few weeks Loki grew stronger. His wounds turned to scars and bruises lightened. His stitches were removed by the ever sure fingers of Iselle. While she bustled about during the day Loki started to feel a pang of guilt as she catered to his every whim. Although his pride would only allow him to help in simple chores to repay her when his body grew strong enough. Iselle would shrug and tell him it didn't matter to her, she got along fine. Every sarcastic snip and blunt joke had a peel of tinkling laughter erupting from Iselle. Loki found himself trying to figure out if she had laughed at his remarks in that short time more than his supposed family had in all his centuries. The answer had Loki struggling to put together reasons to stay.
It was the eighteenth sunrise Loki had seen at the farm that gave him his reason. His body was nearly healed, only some lingering bruises covered his skin now. The powerless god sat patiently waiting in the eastern window. His eyes were scanning the farthest reaches of the dirt road for the outline of the woman and her steed. Catching movement in the distance had a grin spread across his face. Brushing it away he walked out to wait for Iselle on the back porch.
Soon enough Loki watched her trott into the yard. Iselle dismounted, taking the bulging saddlebags with her, and led the horse through the fence to graze. Dumping the bags by the barn she disappeared briefly to put the saddle away. Loki found the corner of his lips twitching when she reappeared. Giving him a wave, she slung the bags over her shoulders and made her way towards the house. When she reached the first step Loki was there to carry her bags. Iselle smiled at him, handing them over and digging in one pouch before letting him lead her into the house.
"It's not exactly what you were looking for," Iselle explained gently. Loki peered back at her as he set the bags on the kitchen island. "But I think it's close. Let me know, and if not I'll try next week when I go in." Loki gave her a nod, accepting the book she handed him. The powerless God meandered his way to the back veranda. He perched on the wooden swing tethered from the roof of it.
That was how Loki spent his lazy afternoons, on days when Iselle proclaimed the work could wait. He selected that particular spot to favour because it gave him the perfect view of an equally relaxed Iselle. The selected perch of the farm's owner was an old tire swing. It hung from the strong branches of an oak tree, just at the edge of the river that ran beside the property. It was just placed so that Iselle's toes ran along the top of the water as she swung lazily.
Loki would often saunter over, slipping onto the other half of the horizontal tire or climbing to the branch it was tied to. Surprisingly, with his vast decline in magical abilities and anything else to distract himself, Loki found a great comfort in relinquishing his experiences and opinions to the sarcastic girl. It was like she knew exactly what to say and what not to say. But she would not coddle him. Various times he had stormed away from her. Only to return later with an apologetic look.
After a few hours of their own solitude, Loki took a deep breath and made his way to the river. Carefully he pulled the tire swing over, a wide grin plastered to Iselle's face. Slipping into the space opposite her he let go of the tree and they swung back over the water. The duo sat there happily for some time, as usual Loki did most of the talking. In one of those rare moments of unquenchable need, Iselle interrupted Loki's monologue with flustered words.
"I do have to lay the blame on Odin's shoulders," she responded tenderly. Her fingers played with the seems on Loki's dark jeans. Iselle had one leg between Loki's and the other bent up on the tire. "You made your own decisions but he lied to you. He built your race up like they were monsters so of course you would loose your mind when you found out. Everyone treated you differently and you grew up in that horrible situation. Odin may have loved you, but he saw you as an object in the beginning and you know that, he seems to have forgotten that, and they blame you."
Loki's head dipped as her words coursed over him like an ocean. "You lash out and for some reason they didn't expect you to be angry. In the same situation I'd do the exact same thing." Iselle thought for a moment, "although I probably would have just killed Odin and Thor right then and there, but you have such strong love you couldn't. You were so filled with rage and the need for revenge you couldn't let them apologize. But those were your decisions, I'm not saying they were right, I'm not saying that it's not your fault, but I understand."
Loki seemed to take a moment before he spoke again. "You take me as one for sentimentalities." His low purr had a tingle crawl up her spine. "I may not have my powers, but I could still kill you."
"Nah," Iselle grinned. "You'd miss me you big baby."
Loki's face feigned offence, "no I wouldn't. " His words spat at her and she just smiled at him.
"You'd have no one to take care of you." The two shared in soft laughter. As it lingered off Iselle let her gaze pass over the slowly lapping waters.
"You should be in flowing gowns with jewels in your hair and maidens waiting on your hand and foot." Loki growled lowly and Iselle closed her eyes with a shudder. Soon she felt Loki's fingers whispering over the skin of her knees. Tilting her head, a soft smile flashed over her face and her eyes opened. Loki gave her a mischievous smirk and grazed his fingers higher on her thighs.
"Loki," came her shallow whisper. Loki turned his face back up to look at hers. Iselle took a shuddering breath, "what are you doing?" Loki chuckled in his throat, the breath of a laugh, his head fell back to gaze at her legs.
"You truly are beautiful Iselle." His head dipped and Iselle felt his cool lips press to the skin of her bent knee.
"What are your intentions Loki?" Iselle's voice was heated, Loki's lips stilled just above her knee.
His chilling breath tickled her soft skin, "I would have you as my own." At his whisper her eyes snapped open. Loki looked up at her through his eyelashes. She whispered his name, causing him to clear his throat and straighten himself upright. "Forgive me, I must have, misread, your emotions."
When Iselle blinked, Loki was scrambling back to the grass. She let out a furious growl and moved to climb after him. Jogging to catch up with his long legs, Iselle reached her hand out to slip into Loki's. Her mouth opened to argue his assumption when a screech ripped out of her. Blue light exploded before her eyes. The lines burned into her skin glowed and lifted to attach her to Loki. The god could feel a small amount of his magic returning to him. So the girl did absorb his powers when he was near death. Loki gaped at her as Iselle's vision blurred and she collapsed in his arms.
Candlelight burned in her eyes, swimming in a haze that confused and enticed her. Feeling soft bedding that was unknown to her, Iselle watched as her long waves pooled out over the white pillow. Feeling exposed suddenly in her thin night dress, her hands went to cover her chest. Long cool fingers wrapped around her wrist stopping her, she felt his lips touch her palm gently. As the bed shifted twin valleys came into her view, but now they were rolling hills burning with a lust she had never beheld in her life.
It threatened to engulf her, but Iselle could not look away, she must never look away from Loki lest he disappear into her dream. Tears pooled into her eyes as he dipped his head out of her view to place soft kisses on her neck, trailing down to her collar bone. Iselle's fingers ran through his black hair, tousling the perfection of it. Her gasps turned to sighs as Loki gently pulled her nightgown over her shoulders exposing her chest. Lifting his head up to look at her, he placed his finger softly under her left eye to catch a small tear. "Why are you crying?"
His wispy voice echoed in Iselle's head, blurring her vision further. She lifted her hands to place them on either side of Loki's face causing him to smile at her. Pulling his face toward her, Iselle placed a soft kiss on his lips. Then tilting his head she whispered into his ear, "Because this is a dream..."
As her eyes opened, she found herself nestled inside her own bed alone. It felt cold and empty after the warmth of her fantasy. Licking her lips she could hear Loki's heated voice whisper her name over and over in her mind. Turning her head lazily, she saw a small light from the window illuminated her nightstand. Loki must have rigged the window so she would see the aspirin and water without waking from the light. A smile passed her face as she wiggled herself upwards to take the pills. Sighing, she let herself slip back into sleep.
xx
"Why should I bother to entertain a peasant, let alone a human one." Loki hissed his distaste, Iselle rolled her eyes and pushed a forkful of hay towards the horses. She turned back to look at him leaning against the barn wall. The sunlight hit his hair in such a gentle way it had Iselle taking her bottom lip between her teeth. A tiny blush crawled up her neck when she realized he noticed the change in her stance.
"Because he's my father and he's gonna be mega pissed about all these tattoos." Iselle hung the pitchfork by the door and brushed her hands off. "It's going to be hard enough explaining you let alone trying to figure out how to explain that." Agitation was evident as Iselle scurried up towards the house. Loki mulled around his thoughts while he followed her up the steps to the purple screen door.
"Just let me deal with both of those issues." His voice laced in silver had the hairs on the back of Iselle's neck standing up. She jumped at little at the door and wheeled around to look at him with skepticism.
"You serious?" Iselle tilted her head as Loki nodded his. It was that signature slight dip in his long neck, never enough to take his eyes off her. She shivered and turned back to walk into the house. Lately it seemed as if he always watched her. Iselle wasn't sure if he was plotting her death or her utter destruction. The next few days had the two relatively separated. Iselle sprucing up the farm and busying herself with mundane tasks. Loki hid in the trees lining the property to practice with the little bit of magic he had drawn out from her.
By Monday they were both ready. Iselle stood in the kitchen that afternoon with horror in her eyes. Entering the room, Loki picked up on her discomfort. "What's the matter?" The God questioned, pulling a jug of orange juice out of the fridge. Iselle shook her head gently and kept her wide gaze on the window. An engine revved outside, Marcus woofed and tucked his nose under his paws. Loki's eyes narrowed as he took a drink. "Is that your father?"
Iselle nodded, fear now evident in the very air. Boots sounded on the veranda and suddenly her eyes shot to him. "I can't do this," her voice was small, filled with panic and broken. Shock shot through Loki's body, he shook his head and reached out to take her elbows.
"I'm not sure why you're so afraid," he tailored his tone to sooth, it was low and silky in effort of comfort. "But it will be fine, I'll take care of everything Iselle." She knew he was just trying to protect himself, that he was fooling her just like he was planning on fooling her father. But something in his usual twinkle had her nodding and taking a deep breath. Loki gave her a reassuring clap on the shoulder as the front door opened. Iselle waltzed out of the kitchen to greet their visitor.
"Father!" Loki could almost taste the venom in her false excite. As his hostess bent forward to embrace the pig of a man Loki had a hard time not retching. Iselle was afraid of this? His strong, brave, selfless Iselle. Loki paused, were those his true thoughts. Quickly he brushed them away, they were merely observations. The girl was independent enough for him to admire some of her traits. "I wish you could spare more time than just supper!"
Loki rolled his eyes, wondering why Mister Wolfe couldn't see the sarcasm as it dripped from her lips. "How are you Iselle? The farm?" Iselle nodded and gave him a report card of the farms going ons. Then a sick feeling in her gut came to the forefront as her father's hard eyes zeroed in on Loki. "Who is this?" His voice lacked any emotion and Iselle found herself backing towards the fallen god. "Augustus Wolfe," the man grunted and held out his meaty right hand.
"I am Loki Laufeyson," Loki's silver words made Iselle straighten where she stood. "I have been living here for a few months with Iselle." Loki smiled brightly at Iselle, his friendly attitude so meticulous he must have practiced. Her father huffed briefly, then spat out his next question, to which Loki replied ever delicately. "We are seeing each other, yes." Iselle felt a shiver moved down her spine at his words and she found herself wondering what that would be like.
Mister Wolfe must have asked Loki about his bruises because when Iselle shook off her own thoughts Loki was spinning another fable. "I fell off a horse the other day," the god chuckled. His arm wrapped around her waist as if it belonged there. Iselle's father didn't notice at all. No one could see the twinkle in his green eyes. The blatant acting fooled everyone it was turned upon. No one could see the emotions, true and fake, swimming through his emerald fields. Iselle's lips parted softly as she openly gaped at him.
Her father responded, "not very good are you?" Loki's trademark snicker, followed by a head dip and him looking through black eyelashes. A throb rang through her chest, one of both pleasure and fear. That must be the great seduction for her, the fear. The immense knowledge you can do whatever you want, and enjoy every second. That part of the human condition very few dare to see. Let alone embrace as the strange pair so clearly had. Wolfe had been fooled.
Loki excused the two of them to the kitchen, inviting Mister Wolfe to take a seat in the den. Her father flashed them as close to a smile as he could muster before waving them off. "As grateful as I am Loki," Iselle hissed, shutting the kitchen door behind her. "What the hell did you do?" Loki's wisp of a laugh floated over to her. Much to her surprise, Loki turned back to her. His cold hand slipped around hers and he smirked at her.
"You're grateful are you?" Loki's purr had Iselle blushing. Her head dipped and she tried to stammer out a response. Loki laughed softly, a poor attempt to savour her pride. "I just used that little bit of magic you gave me to hide your markings." His fingers skittered along the blue swirls on her forearm. "It seems these will fade as my powers return to me, see they are lighter." Loki lifted her hand so Iselle would be forced to look at the markings. He wasn't lying, they were visibly faded, although just slightly.
xx
A grotesque slime oozed between Iselle's gloved fingers. Even through the waterproof canvas she could feel the texture of the wet leaves left over from the previous days storm. The latter leaning against the house creaked and her heart bunched in her throat. The height wasn't high by normal circumstances. But to Iselle, every foot between her and the ground spelled a dozen possible injuries. Her eyes squeezed shut, her breath catching and her hands fanning out against the roof. Taking a deep rush of air in she resumed her task.
Loki strolled out onto the veranda then, an agitated poise to his features and a book in his hand. Spotting the shaky ladder to the left of the house he made his way around on the grass. Her strong legs revealed in the cotton shorts she wore, blue markings as stark as ever against her white skin. A novelty tee topped it off, something fit for mucking the gutters. Loki scoffed down at his own flannel shirt and jeans combination. Fit for rags in his opinion, the girl had paid Midgardian money for something he wouldn't dress his horse in.
Not sure what her should reprimand her for first Loki looked back up to see Iselle tugging on a twig. A white hot panic flashed through him as the ladder groaned. Iselle let out a yelp when it started to fall back from the house. Loki lurched forward and grabbed the ladder, pushing it towards the house and holding it in place. Another sound came from Iselle and he looked up fearing she was falling. To his surprise it was the girl herself scurrying down the ladder.
He backed up as her boots neared his face, and soon she stood in front of him. Loki's eyes were nearly rounded, the book pressed to his chest. Iselle pressed her hand to hers and tried to calm her erratic breathing. "Trying not to have a heart attack," she gasped, her rushed words making Loki jump. "I'm in a nightmare," her hand went to push through her hair when she realized it was the dirty one. A barking laugh shot out of her and she shook the gloves off and let them fall to the ground.
"Loki you saved my life," Iselle gasped again, moving to lean against the house.
Loki laughed sharply at her bent form. "I did no such thing," he guffawed, "I merely stayed the ladder."
Iselle stood straight and moved her hands like mouths to mock him. "Oh laa tee daa," she spoke quickly in an English accent. "I merely stayed the lattar." The strange face her anger had taken startled Loki. He was expecting to be cursed at not teased like a child.
"This is the wrong book." Loki quipped in a neutral tone. His regular paced complaint had Iselle lifted her hand to holler at him. She caught a twinkle in his eyes, hidden among the disinterested arrangement of his face. Her intake of breath stopped short and Loki's face twitched until he let slip a sly grin. Iselle loosened her fingers and gave his shoulder a swat.
"You stupid twat!" She giggled, swatting at him again as he laughed in his whispering way. Loki caught her eyes and she smiled warmly at him. "But thanks for calming me down," she shrugged. He paused for a moment, studying the arrangement of freckles on her cheeks. Just before Iselle could clear her throat awkwardly Loki slipped his fingers under her chin and pulled her towards him. When Iselle's bewilderment shook and her eyes closed to kiss back, Loki pulled away and walked briskly back into the house. Iselle's lips hung slightly parted as she felt the linger of his cool breath on her skin. His fleeting emotions were going to be the utter death of her.
Once she had recovered her own senses, rage billowed through her. Charging into the house she found Loki standing in the hallway trying to catch his breath. "Loki, I know you're not from here but you can't just do stuff like that!" Iselle wasn't sure what she expected, but as usual Loki surprised her. He wheeled on her and snarled into her face like she was nothing to him. Loki mocked her for thinking she could change him, that such a dark soul could be redeemed. "I don't want to fix you stupid!" Her near screech had Loki snapping his face back away from her in shock.
"I don't want to weep at your feet and beg you to change who you are." Iselle regained her composure and tried to figure out why Loki had lashed out so hatefully. As she spoke she judged his reactions carefully. "If you're good, then you're good. If you're evil, then you're honest." A small smirk and a whisper of a chuckle flashed over his face. "Take is from someone who had spent a lifetime studying heros and villains. Those terms don't mean what people think."
"You're just as twisted as I am." Loki responded, his tone calm but still filled with the darkness his confusion had brought forth. Iselle nodded, agreeing the word left a nice flavour. "Humans don't normally have evil in their nature." Iselle rolled her eyes at Loki's lazy observation.
"Again, you don't listen do you?" Iselle watched as offence had Loki's nose screwing up in distaste. "You're such a spoiled child sometimes Loki." The god snarled and moved to interrupt but she cut him off. "Heroes do what they think is right, what they want to do, and countless die. Even those closest to them." As she spoke Loki nodded the validity of her claims. "Villains, on the other hand, are the quiet kid alone on the playground while the heroes, the bullies, torture them. Everyone dies, everyone kills, and everyone has darkness. The only difference between a hero and a villain is that the villains admit they are evil and relish in their darkness."
Iselle took a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. Loki looked down at her, both of them visibly agitated from his own behaviour. "So no Loki, I don't want to change you. You can't change people, and people don't change. I like you for you, kill a human or two, I don't care. I have a list of people if you'd like to be specific."
"You can't mean that," Loki scoffed in disbelief. "You're a bleeding heart."
"I would have pulled you out of that fire and fixed you up regardless, its just who I am." Iselle blew a puff of air out of her lips to move a piece of hair. "If you were a twat I would of kicked you out the next week. But you're a snarky little fuck and I love that." Iselle giggled slightly, Loki letting his stance relax with a quirk of his lips. "I'm not going to go storming into Asgard and blather on about how you're so misunderstood and you're a child who is lashing out."
As Iselle spoke in a mocking voice, Loki couldn't help but chuckle at his imaginings of Odin's face when his feisty little ginger pushed down the palace gates. "Yes you're childish, but it stems from that ageless wound and that turns everyone into children. Children are primal and self serving. You are misunderstood but not in the way you would have me believe. You know exactly what you are doing, you're good at it, you love it, and sometimes you may even feel guilt. Who is to say, everyone feels guilt, I live with no regrets and no apologies and sometimes I feel guilt, it's an emotion."