The ride
Meet me at the stables after breakfast, the note said. We're going on an adventure. Wear riding breeches.
There was no signature but Alex recognised the handwriting and the green ink. She tried to get offended by the assumptive nature of the note—the way he'd casually commanded her to meet him there—but she couldn't. Not with the promise of an adventure. If they were going on horseback, then there was the likelihood they'd be going pretty far.
She hadn't left the palace grounds since Loki's return and had barely seen the city around the palace before that. Loki wouldn't want to stick to the bounds of the city, so finally they'd be venturing further afield. She couldn't remember spending so much time in one place, so the boundaries she'd been restricted to had begun to feel stifling. This was perfect timing.
She didn't need a guard to show her where the stables were anymore—she finally knew her way to the important parts of the palace complex. She emerged into bright sunshine, the blooms from a nearby tree perfuming the breeze. Loki waited by the stable entrance with the reins to a chestnut mare in his grip. He smiled in greeting—a rare unguarded smile, with no hidden agenda behind it.
"I've been informed you favour this mount," he said, stroking the chestnut's muzzle. She was all saddled and ready to go. In the stall behind him, a white stallion huffed and nudged at the wooden posts.
"And he's yours," she replied.
"Yes, he's eager to get out. It's been a long time since I rode him—the stable hands have kept him exercised but it's not what a creature like this needs."
Loki's limp was a thing of the past, and he'd been striding around the palace like the injuries had never happened. In fact, he almost seemed to be pretending the last few years had never happened, until he'd overhear the whispered remarks of someone in the palace staff or catch an askance stare, and then the glint of malice would return to his eye. Even here, the stable hands worked diligently, acting as if he weren't present. The talking would start after they'd left.
"He's only got four legs," she commented.
He frowned, the reference taking a few seconds to sink in. "Sleipnir is my father's mount. And no, I didn't birth him. He was merely the result of an…experiment."
"Hmm. If you say so. All the books I read in SHIELD's library say otherwise. I'd hate to find out you'd been concealing children from me for years."
His eyes narrowed. "Those stories were horribly mangled by that Sturluson being."
"But how'd he hear about them in the first place? There's supposed to be a grain of truth at the heart of every myth."
"I can promise you I have fathered no one and nothing. Those rumours were started by Angrboda. She did not take rejection well."
"Doth the maiden protest too much?" She tried to bite back the smile threatening to erupt at the look at on his face.
Strong hands grabbed her by the waist and hauled her onto the mare's back while she shrieked in surprise. When she was seated, giggling, a husky voice whispered in her ear. "Perhaps one day our offspring will be the kernel of truth at the centre of a story."
She abruptly stopped laughing, staring at his retreating form as he went to untether the stallion. Loki's children. Now there was a terrifying thought.
Staring at the back side of him gave her an excellent view of his backside as he fluidly climbed into the saddle. She'd forgotten how unsettling being around Loki could be: she'd switched emotions three times in the space of half a minute, from giddiness to confusion to lust.
"Now you have it. A prince on a white horse," he proclaimed as he trotted alongside her. You couldn't ever call Loki goofy, but the smile on his face at this ridiculous statement led him dangerously close. He definitely had the makings of a Disney prince at this moment. Shame he better fit the part of the villain too often.
And she was right back to confusion.
She cleared her throat. "So where are we going?"
"To the wildflower meadows; they're about an hours ride from here. I cannot take you on a proper adventure to another realm, but I can take you somewhere pleasant within this. We'll have peace there."
"We're going alone?" Meadows sounded isolated. Extended alone time with Loki sounded like a bad idea.
"Of course." He glanced sideways at her and took in her tense posture. "Don't worry, I have no intention of pressing my suit in that direction. If it satisfies you, Odin's ravens will be keeping a close eye on my movements so far from the palace."
"I didn't—"
"I'm not a fool, Asta. I realise even if you were to come to my bed willingly at this time, it would do me no favours. Nor would it be a renewal of our commitment. You would balk afterwards and I would lose even more ground. I'm able to ignore the short term demands of my body if it will secure what I want in the long term." Without looking back, he nudged the stallion into a canter, out of the gates to the road beyond.
The mare seemed glad for the exercise too, as Alex urged her to keep up. The path Loki took led them through the city walls and into the countryside that fringed it, the shining houses giving way to a perfectly paved road and rolling fields on either side. It reminded her so much of England, but with the saturation on the colours turned up high, and without electricity pylons or juggernauts spoiling the view. They passed other riders and wagons, spilling off the roadway and onto the softer earth on either side so they didn't need to slow down.
The breeze caught Alex's hair, billowing it out behind her. She'd forgotten how much fun this was, even without going at a full gallop: the closest she'd ever come to flying. That was a good thing—the moment she'd spent at the edge of the helicarrier with nothing but air between her and the ground had proven the ability to fly would do nothing but petrify her. This, she could handle. It was tons better than travelling by car, too, at least when the sky was such a perfect, open blue and there wasn't a raincloud to be seen. There was no glass fogging the view or metal keeping her locked away from the elements.
As mile followed mile, the flowers lining the road multiplied. Fluffy white blooms nestled next to tangerine-bright trumpets. The domestication of the fields gave way to untamed nature, with grasses that would have risen to her waist if she'd walked among them. Most of the plants looked like close cousins of ones she recognised from Earth, though she'd never been able to name many of those. If these weren't the wildflower meadows, they had to be close.
Loki slowed his mount to a trot and she followed suit, falling in alongside him. The wind had ruffled his hair too, leaving strands loose around his face.
"You're smiling again," he said.
"Don't look so smug. It's the horses doing, not yours."
He was never one to do what he was told, the glint in his eye failing to diminish. "Care to race?"
"No chance. It'd be completely unfair—your horse is bigger than mine and you've ridden more than me. Even with a head start—"
With a jab of her heels and tug of the reins, the mare was off, pulling away while Loki waited for her to finish her sentence. She heard his enraged shout a second later, then the answering drumbeat of his stallion's hooves as he urged it into a gallop.
She'd been right, of course. Despite her cheating, he overtook her easily—so easily, he got to choose the finish line, a stand of saplings growing at the edge of a stream. She dropped down the from the mare, leading her over for a drink.
One advantage cars had over horses: they were far gentler on the behind.
"I'd say this is a perfect place to take a meal," said Loki, reaching for a saddlebag as the stallion quenched its thirst too.
"Are you seriously suggesting a picnic?"
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I fail to the see the problem in that."
She couldn't help teasing him. The sunshine, adrenaline and relative freedom had put her in the best mood she'd experienced in a long time. "Oh no, no problem. Just, you know, big bad god of mischief, on a pretty blanket in a meadow. People might get the wrong idea."
"If anyone were to question my titles, I could soon correct them. As it is, there is no one around here to see. Or to interrupt." With a flick of his wrist, a vivid green blanket appeared on the ground at their feet.
Alex gave one quick hand clap. "And for your next trick, you're going to magic up a wicker basket? That saddlebag looks awfully small." She should have realised he was perfectly capable of copying Mary Poppins' gimmick. Out came plate after plate of steaming delicacies, fluffy desserts and ice cold drinks. She decided the best way to show her appreciation was to eat as much as she could. The problem with that was when the food was all gone, she had no inclination to get back on the horse until the it had settled.
"We definitely need to wait a while," she groaned, forcing herself off the blanket and to her feet. Loki didn't seem at all perturbed. She was giving him what he craved: more time.
They decided to stroll, following the path of the stream while leading the horses by the reins. At first, conversation stuttered and stalled, Loki struggling to find a topic that she could offer more than pleasantries in response to. They'd already exhausted the weather and the ride over the picnic. Alex ended up paying more attention to the mare's exploration of the tender grasses, until Loki turned his tongue to a remembrance of the places they'd ridden in the past, and some of the calamities that had occurred while he was teaching her to ride.
"That pony—by the Norns, if I found that pony again, I'd have it turned into stew and fed to its shrew of an owner," Loki grumbled. She was giggling too hard to answer, remembering Loki tumbling into a muddy puddle after the pony butted him away. He'd rented it for the day from a widow with a soft spot for Alex; the pony was about the only thing small enough for her to ride. It had liked Alex as well as its owner, and distrusted Loki just as much.
They'd drifted under the cover of a copse, seeking a little shade after several hours of cloudless sky. When her giggles lapsed into silence, Alex realised the sound she'd assumed was the breeze in the branches was actually a melody from pipes of some kind.
"Someone lives here?" she asked, pulling the mare in the direction of the music.
"I suppose so," Loki answered. He followed her, though warily.
"It must be lovely. So peaceful." He muttered something nondescript in response. Peaceful was never going to impress him.
When the trees thinned they discovered a cottage, exactly how she'd always imagined witch's cottages looked in fairy tales: ramshackle and weather-worn, with extraordinary objects dangling from hooks outside to dry in the sun. The stream burbled happily past and rings of flowers spiralled out, carpeting the ground in shocks of blue and yellow. She was envious of anyone who got to spend their life here.
On the steps leading up to the front door, a young man sat with a wooden pipe between his teeth. He was the source of the lovely tune, though he'd stopped playing at their approach, a high-pitched blast sounding instead. Loki tensed and Alex stopped walking. The man rose, coming to stand on the bottom step.
"I know you," he called. Loki's hands balled into fists by his side. Alex decided friendliness would go down better than whatever hostility Loki was about to mete out, and set off towards the cottage again.
"We didn't mean to disturb you," she said. "We're just passing through."
The man turned his gaze to her, and she flinched at the insult it contained. "Of course you are. The traitor prince and a foreign whore aren't welcome here."
Alex's hand was over Loki's before he could do anything rash. She was aware of him, pressed right up behind her, a tower of rage.
"Your mother should have raised you with better manners," Loki spat. "There are some things one never says to a lady."
"And your mother ought to have made sure you were dead when she left you in the snow to die."
"Loki…" she warned as he gathered his magic. "It's just words." She wondered how the man could dare to speak to Loki like he did—he was still a prince of the realm, and one proficient in magic at that, not to mention how well he handled daggers. The answer came in the figures around them—a knot of people emerging from the trees, called by the warning blast on the pipe. "We really don't mean you any harm," she said to the man. "Let us pass and nothing more needs to come of this."
"Except the war," a voice from her left replied. "The war he's brought upon us."
"We'll all suffer," said another. "All except him. Already the men of our village have been visited by the recruiters." The village had to be nearby: near enough for them to hear the pipe and come running.
"You're not really our prince. You're a monster."
"It is treason to attack me," Loki growled. "Do so and nothing will be left of your village at all."
From the corner of her eye, she saw the glint of a blade. Sadly, not Loki's blade. "Treason to attack you, aye. But what about her?"
The man was already moving before he'd finished speaking, and only Loki's quick reflexes pulled her out harm's way. Instead, the man stumbled into her mare, his blade slashing down her leg. She reared back; Alex screamed; the man dodged away from the trampling hooves just in time.
That left him in arm's reach of Loki's daggers, and Loki wasted no time in rounding on him, aiming straight for his throat. Alex grabbed Loki's wrist, yanking him away, the sense memory of his failed attempt to skewer Coulson rising inside her. "Stop it!" she yelled. "Don't do this, not now." Loki turned his murderous stare on her, a flicker of crimson lighting his eyes.
"He tried to kill you."
"But he failed."
"He should pay."
"Not with his life!"
Loki turned back to the man, his blades melting into nothingness, and casually backhanded him so hard he landed at the foot of of the other villagers. They were gathered on the other side of the clearing, staring in stunned horror.
"Take him and leave." When no one so much as twitched, he tried again. "Go!" he roared. They scattered, while Loki grabbed the reins of the panicking mare and soothed her with a simple piece of magic. Alex rested against the stallion instead, stroking his flank to calm herself as much as to calm him. It was all too easy to pretend Loki's temper was something she'd elaborated in her memory, until she was faced with it again.
"The mare will need to be tended to," he told her, the anger already melted from his voice. He rose from checking the horse's injury, and the stiffness of his back showed her how much he was struggling to keep himself under control. "She won't be able to ride back to the palace until she's healed."
"How..?" He interrupted her with a click of his tongue, and a raven swooped down to perch on a bough above their heads. It took one glance at the scene and erupted skyward.
"He will fetch a healer for her and the sheriff to deal with that fool." His control was already cracking. She stepped towards him and laid her hand on his forearm, hoping it would redirect his attention.
"Thank you," she said. "For protecting me, and for listening to me when I asked you not to kill him."
For a second he just stared at her. Then he crumpled in on himself. Oh, he stayed standing, but his face reverted to a boyish confusion she'd never seen on him before: pain and wonder and a thousand things she couldn't identify. While she struggled to remember to breathe, he caught her, pulling her in even closer until he could lower his lips to her forehead. What she thought was a simple kiss turned out to be a mantra he whispered against her skin: thankyou, thankyou, thankyou.
He gathered her tight to him, tucked under his chin, one arm around her waist and the other hand pressing lightly to her neck. Gradually, the rhythms of his body—pulse and breath—bid her to relax, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes, enjoying his body heat and the planes of his torso. His scent was so much more pleasant than the last time she'd been this close to him: ever-present leather, the perfumed soap from the palace, a light hint of sweat from the day's activities, and the cool bite of Loki underneath it all. Heavens knew why this had affected him so much, but she'd let him take the comfort he sought. Part of Loki's problem was he'd never been given the comfort when he needed it.
Their reverie was interrupted by the raven's return. Loki pulled away, keeping his arm around her waist, to converse with it in undertones. He moved away from her to tether the mare to one of the trees beside the stream. "A healer is on the way," he said, "but we'll both need to ride on my mount to return to the palace." She nodded, allowing him to help her into the stallion's saddle. She feared to say anything in case it somehow broke the mood between them, instead leaning back into him when he climbed up behind her.
The ride back was slower, since even the stallion couldn't canter with both of them on his back. The joy of the morning had evaporated, but even with the turn of events in the copse, she carried some of the peace she'd felt with her all the way back to the palace. Despite the display of his fierce anger, his quickness to lash out, she was feeling something she hadn't in a long time: safe in Loki's arms.
A/N: I managed to get this written and pre-read before leaving for the family trip, so ta-da! It's more likely that chapter 32 will be delayed, however, since it does not yet exist.
If you haven't seen the Disney Prince Loki gifs, you really ought to. Just Google them. They're from Thor deleted scenes.
Reviewers gets teasers :).