As always massive thanks and love to everyone taking the time to read this, and especially those who have favourited, alerted and/or reviewed!

o

Chapter Five:

Ten and a Half Years Ago

"Well," Efanna said cheerfully, jumping up, "I'm not getting anything done sat here, so if we're finished arguing I think I'll get on. You made a decision yet?"

Loki was silent for a moment as he tried to get his temper back under control. He pondered her question – what was he supposed to do in this miserable corner of such an uninspiring realm?

"I'm interested to see what work it is that you do," he said eventually, deciding that the only thing of interest to him was Efanna herself, "Might I be able to accompany you?"

"Still trying to seduce me I see?" she noted quizzically, "I'm not sure that's really going to work you know."

Loki's temper flared again, how could she know that? What's more how dare she doubt his success? With an effort he calmed himself.

"I was merely trying to be cordial," he told her darkly, "Are manners not taught on Midgard? Would you rather I treated you as the worthless wretch that you are?"

The venom in his words surprised him, he had not meant to be that candid with her. It seemed this mortal had an inexplicable skill of getting under his skin.

"Treat me however you want, Loki," she replied calmly, "Although I will admit I would prefer it if you could try and be nice, yes. I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't've said that, you're really doing very well you know. Well at least for you."

Surprisingly Efanna seemed completely unconcerned by his admission of how low regard he held her in. He had thought any self-respecting being, mortal, Asgardian or otherwise, would have retaliated at such an insult, but she appeared not even to notice. What's more her allusion to knowledge of his true character alarmed him slightly. How much did this girl know? His initial response was to once again attempt to force the information out of her, but she had made it perfectly clear that there would be little use in doing that.

Instead he consoled himself with the reasoning that if she so easily let things slip, it may be easy to get what he wanted from her by more subtle means. After all he was in no rush and, unlike Thor, was perfectly capable of being patient. Of playing the long game. He would watch her. Study her. He would do as she asked, in actions at least, and ignore her suggestions of forbidden knowledge. Allow her to feel comfortable. And yet he would act as he wished, with no abhorrent pretence of being mortal. He would aim to slyly provoke these little slips of hers, to encourage her to make the mistakes that would tell him all he needed to know. He might even enjoy it, as one enjoys watching an animal in a cage, for he had to admit, she was rather amusing to observe.

"Is it far to your place of work?" he asked, steering the conversation back to calmer grounds.

"Nope," she said, smiling, "Just the middle of my three barns, come on, I'll show you!"

She grinned like an excited child and actually grabbed his hand in her small gloved one, pulling him along as she skipped towards the door. Loki's brow raised at her sudden cheerfulness. She paused briefly to allow them to don their shoes and then raced off again, out of the door and across the courtyard where her dog bounded up to meet her. Loki followed at a more stately pace, amused by her abrupt change in humour.

As she reached the door to the bigger of the two stone barns that faced them her manner changed again, just as unexpectedly. The corner of her bottom lip was once again sucked in and she peered up at him through her lashes shyly as she unlocked the wooden door. Loki watched her curiously.

"Well, what d'you think?" she asked, pushing the door open and flicking on the lights.

The room inside was long, thin and low roofed, with bare stone walls and a poured concrete floor. A work surface stretched across the length of one of the long walls, covered with various paints, papers, inks and pens, with shelves above it which were crammed full of more of the same and much else besides. There were large racks, cupboards and filing cabinets stacked along the other walls, with canvases, bits of wood, and various other oddities piled between them. In the centre of the room stood several easels holding paintings in various stages of completion. The floor, and indeed parts of the walls, were covered in drops and splashes of paint in every colour imaginable.

"You're an artist then I take it?" he asked as she darted about the room, considering some pieces, moving others out of the way.

"Yup," she said, leafing through several sheets of sketches on her desk, "Painting, drawing, illustrating, commissions, even a bit of sculpture and carving; wherever the mood takes me – or what brings in the money! It's a good job for me; I enjoy it and it means I never have to leave home."

She seemed to settle in front of the largest of the canvases in the middle of the room, considering it for a moment with her head tilted to one side.

"Have a look around if you want, or sit down," she told him, turning to gather paints and brushes, "I need to finish this one, it's being picked up this week and it still needs at least two more sessions."

Loki followed her to her current project, weaving in and out of the paintings in progress around him, some no more than mere sketches, some nearing completion. He examined it as she busied herself behind him with the tools of her trade. The canvas was large and square, perhaps equal to Efanna's height. It currently appeared to depict a night's sky in innumerable shades of blue with a misty moon suspended large in one corner. The brush strokes were rough and energetic; the painting was not neat but it had an energy and depth that drew the eye and somehow seemed to stir emotions deep within its viewer.

"Beep beep!" Efanna said, prodding him gently in the shoulder with the butt of her paintbrush. Loki obligingly stepped out of the way.

"What you think?" she asked, her eyes almost anxious, as though seeking his approval.

"It has energy. Spirit," he replied, carefully. Efanna beamed at him.

"Art should be created not with paint nor pen, but emotion," she stated, loading paint onto her brush, "I'm not sure if anyone said that, or if it's just me, but it's the rule I've always stuck to."

She gave him a quick smile before applying brush to canvas in long, bold strokes. Loki watched her for a moment before turning to appraise her other works. Her style was definitely loose, organic, some might even say scruffy. Yet her paintings all held such life and emotion that Loki seemed more drawn to them than he had ever been by art before. As he wondered the room, looking over not only the easels but the many papers on her desk he found that her work covered everything from landscapes, to detailed sketches, or abstract compilations of shape and colour. Colour seemed very important to her, she appeared to use every shade in the spectrum and very few pieces were in black and white. But even within the most wild and riotous pieces there was a section in exquisite and meticulous detail which set off the its vivacity even more in contrast.

After a while he turned from the art, to the artist herself, seating himself on a chair and watching her work. Efanna seemed wholly immersed in what she did, painting with as much confidence and enthusiasm as she had danced earlier. The picture slowly grew and when she finally stepped back from it Loki saw the silhouette of a tree with winter-bare limbs swaying in the imagined breeze. She stared at it for a moment then made a small noise of satisfaction and turned, jumping slightly as she saw him.

"Oh! Yeah. Loki," she muttered, staring at him for a moment with her head to one side before shaking her head slightly and walking past him to wash her brushes and pallet. Loki noticed she had smudges of black paint on her cheek and nose.

"Am I really so easy to forget?" he asked, smirking at her reaction.

"Um, not really. I'm just really used to being alone. And, you know, not having an Asgardian Prince watching me."

"I am no Prince of Asgard," he told her darkly. She turned to look at him, eyes a mystery, even to Loki.

"No, I guess not," she said, somewhat distantly, "At least not at the moment?" There was something about her tone that suggested this was a question, although Loki didn't quite understand why.

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, deciding to stay quiet rather than repeat the argument they had had after breakfast. She returned his gaze for a moment before busying herself again cleaning her brushes. When she turned back to him her cheery manner seemed to have returned.

o

"Here!" Efanna called, "It might be sunny but there's a fair breeze and this is Wales so you can't really expect it to be warm."

She handed Loki a cloak in deep green velvet with an intricate pewter clasp. It was one of her favourites, a full half-circle of fabric that could have covered even the biggest of men. That was one of the good things about cloaks – they weren't gender specific. Once again Loki's eyebrow raised as he took it from her grasp. He did that so often Efanna wondered that he didn't get muscle cramp in his forehead.

"I thought cloaks were no longer the fashion in Midgard," he said as he ran the fabric through his long fingers, inspecting it.

"Phft, who gives a damn about fashion? Cloaks are awesome!"

She swung her own about her shoulders, a lightweight wool one in deep purple which she and her mother had made themselves, from sheering the sheep and spinning the wool, to weaving and dying the fabric and finally stitching it together. It was a lot more roughly made than the one she had given to Loki, its handmade nature clearly evident, but she loved it more than any other. It was quite short on her now, having been made a decade ago, but that was another good thing about cloaks – you never really grew out of them.

"Shall we get going then? Before the good old Welsh weather changes on us!"

Loki swung his cloak around his shoulders and followed her as she walked across the courtyard towards the fields where the sheep were kept, whistling for Pip. Over lunch she had suggested they take advantage of the good weather and go for a walk. Loki hadn't anything better to do and so agreed. The fields to Efanna's farm were almost all above her cottage; originally there had been ones below as well but she rented those out to her neighbours as she had little need of them but needed the revenue they brought in. Although they wouldn't've been able to go far if they stayed on her land, the higher areas of the valley weren't so precisely marked and it was accepted that one could wander wherever they liked as long she the sheep weren't bothered. Although her anonymity kept the neighbouring farmers from really registering her existence, they were aware that at the top of the valley lived a young redhead and a dog that didn't worry the sheep so if they ever saw her they paid her no heed.

They wandered about the hills for the better part of two hours, talking occasionally but mostly watching each other from the corner of their eyes and thinking. As they rose above the shelter of the buildings the wind whipped their cloaks and the hem of Efanna's bright dress about their legs and she broke into a wide grin. The world was wild up here, and free and she loved it. Every now and then she would cheerfully point something out to Loki, a new flower, or the berries ripening on the hedges, or a bird circling the air currents above them. Each time his brow would quirk and more and more she started to giggle at him, earning her a cold stare, although he seemed to be restraining himself from actually retaliating. Efanna almost felt proud of him for this. When she finally did get a response from him he sounded more exasperated and angry, which she thought was an improvement.

"Efanna, what are you doing?" he asked as they walked past a huddle of sheep and she bleated at the top of her voice to them.

"Saying hello," she told him, as if it was obvious. One delicate eyebrow rose again so she added, by means of explanation, "It's only polite to try and talk to them in their own language after all."

Loki looked at her as though she was mad. She had a feeling this would probably be a normal response had she told anyone else, but this was Loki so she wasn't quite sure.

"So you speak the language of sheep?" His tone was mocking.

"Not a word," she replied with aplomb, "I could be calling their most deadly insult for all I know, but they don't seem to mind so we get along fine."

Loki's gaze appeared to be seriously questioning her sanity but she simply smiled at him and scampered on further up the hill. Even if she was bonkers it's not like it was bothering anyone (except perhaps Loki) so she didn't give a damn.

As they made their way back towards her cottage, Pip treating them like sheep and circling them to ensure they stayed together, Efanna angled towards the young tree that stood at the highest point of her land.

"Hello, old friend," she muttered as she reached it, pulling one of her gloves off and laying her hand on the bark, feeling the comforting rush of its Memories.

"First sheep, now trees," she heard Loki mutter behind her. She imagined his eyebrow was probably raised.

Once the tree had finished updating her she turned from it and sat herself on a boulder a little ways up from it, pulling her glove back on in case Loki should have a temper flip and attack her again.

"I take it we are stopping here for a moment then?" he asked her.

"You can go back on down if you want, I just want a bit of company for a moment."

"Am I not company?" There goes the eyebrow.

"Well, yes, but I need some familiar company. You're not always the easiest person to talk to, Loki."

"And the tree is?"

"Yes." She smiled at the look on his face. "I always come up here when I need to talk. The tree's a very good listener."

"Does it ever talk back?" His tone was mocking again and he was smirking at her. Efanna didn't mind though, at least it was a smile. Of sorts.

"In its own way."

She was quiet for a moment, staring past Loki and into the valley below.

"Besides," she whispered, "It's not like I've had anyone else to talk to."

"Why not?"

Loki's tone had changed from mocking to curious. Efanna looked up at him and sighed. She would have to tell him. It wasn't fair that she knew so much of his life and he knew nothing of hers. He would never keep his patience with her if she didn't tell him some of her secrets. Not that this was so much a secret, just … painful.

"My Mam bought this farm when she found out she was pregnant with me," she said, knowing she would only be able to do this if she started from the beginning. "The first thing she did was plant this tree. She always loved trees. Said this one was to be a celebration of my life."

Efanna paused as the old ache threatened to overwhelm her.

"She died. Ten and a half years ago. 6th April 2002. I've been alone ever since."

She felt a tear streak down her face and turned to look at Loki. His face was carefully blank. For all that she knew him, she couldn't quite make out his emotion. How long he watched her for she didn't know. Her sense of time had always been vague.

"How old are you?" he suddenly asked.

"I'll be twenty-two on Samhain," she said, her voice quiet. "That's just over a month," she added at his questioning look.

"So you were…"

"Eleven years, six months and six days old," she completed for him.

He looked at her as if trying to calculate something. "Isn't that very young?" he asked. Efanna remembered that the comparative ages of humans and Asgardians were different.

"I was just a child," she said.

Loki was silent for a long time, his green eyes watching hers. Efanna didn't think she had seen him look so gentle, even though his eyes were still hard as agates (this was Loki after all). Not since he had fallen from the Bifrost. But then he saw himself as an orphan too.

"Did no one else care for you?" he asked eventually.

This is where Efanna was glad Loki knew so little of Earth culture and human ways. He wouldn't question that she'd never been put into care, wouldn't think it abnormal that an eleven year old girl was left to fend for herself here if she didn't tell him that it was.

"There was no one else," she told him, "Mam was an orphan herself. She'd been adopted, and although they were a nice couple, they took on so many abandoned children that she lost contact with them when she moved away to university. They don't even know I exist. I don't think they even know she's dead."

She watched Loki carefully and noticed when his eyes clouded over at the word 'adopted'.

"What about your father?" he asked eventually, his voice strained.

"I have no father," she said sternly.

Her tone caused Loki's eyebrow to rise again.

"Of course biologically there was one," she admitted, her voice cold, "But he is not my father. He just happened to be there at my conception. And that is the only time he has ever been there." There was venom in her voice, but she would not let herself think of that man. Loki wouldn't be the one losing his temper if she did.

Silence fell as both redhead and raven contemplated their parentage. Efanna pushed her emotions beside and watched Loki instead. She knew what must be going through his mind. He wouldn't be able to ignore the similarities in their heritage. His eyes were fixed on her, but she knew he saw something else. A small crease appeared between his brows and she felt she ought to change the subject away from fathers before his temper rose to breaking point.

"And so, you're the first person with whom I've had a conversation in ten and a half years," she said, forcing her small voice to sound cheerful and giving him a wan smile. Loki seemed to jerk himself back to the present.

"But surely there must have been others?" he asked, "Why were you not adopted also?" His voice seemed to catch on the word.

This is where Efanna would have to be vigilant with her words. She needed to be very careful here to skirt around that which she'd decided she would keep secret.

"I'm not normal, Loki," she said softly, "The world wasn't ready for me. I'm not sure it even is now. I wouldn't have survived out there."

Loki's eyes became curious again and she felt his attention double.

"So you were left to survive on your own? A mere child?" His tone was sceptical.

Efanna sighed. The injustice of it still hurt her.

"That's why Mam bought this place," she explained, "She always had a connection with the Natural Magiks of this world. The energies, the Spirits. Somehow she knew her life would be cut short, that she would leave me before I was grown. She kept me here, where I was safe, and taught me everything I would need to know to be able to look after myself. To be able to survive on my own. She gave me everything she could before she left me."

This is where Efanna was forced lie, but there was enough truth in it, she hoped, to satisfy Loki. It had been she who had known her mother was going to die young, not her mother herself. She had only been five when she'd had the Vision. Seen herself waking up next to her mother's lifeless form. But her mother's connections with the Natural Magiks had allowed her to understand he terrified daughter's revelation. To guide her though her Visions and help her understand them herself. To teach her to accept her situation and to make the most of it. To live her life to the full.

Efanna hadn't realised she'd been crying until Pip jumped up next to her and starting licking her face earnestly. This was partly to make her feel better, she thought, and partly because he liked the saltiness of the taste. She giggled slightly and squirmed, trying to stop him licking her eyes. Her mother had loved her. She knew that and she always would. She could cope with the pain of having lost her, and besides her life wasn't all that bad, just a little lonely. Very lonely. But she knew her mother had loved her. That was more than Loki knew.

She straightened up, pushed the dog off her lap and wiped the thick layer of slime from her face onto her sleeve. Then she turned to Loki who was watching her with deep eyes.

"You okay?" she asked.

He looked confused and for some reason almost angry. Efanna guessed it was because he didn't want her to think him in pain.

"You have just told to me the details of your mother's death and your father's abandonment and yet you ask if I am okay?"

"Yep," she stated simply. Loki looked incredulous.

"What concern is it of yours, mortal?" he asked, coldly.

Efanna sighed and stood up.

"Every concern, Loki," she said before reaching up and, very carefully, hugging him. Luckily his height meant she was in little danger of the skin of their faces touching, and the long sleeves of her dress meant Efanna's arms were covered. It was still a slightly risky action, especially given Loki's volatile nature, but Efanna knew the importance of a hug.

He didn't hug her back, his body stiffening at her touch. When she stepped back Efanna saw that he looked almost as if she had slapped him around the face rather than hugged him, except perhaps less angry. He stared at her for a long while and she held his gaze with a small smile.

"I do not know what to make of you, Efanna," he said eventually.

"That's alright, I'm not sure I do either."

She widened her smile, then turned to skip down the hill, calling Pip after her and laughing once more as the wind swept the wild scent of grass, and flowers, and sheep, and hay around her and reminded her that she was alive.

Okay! So that's the foundations of their relationship laid down! Is there anything you'd particularly like to see before Loki finds out Efanna's secret? Let me know what you think! :D