By the Grace of Her Humanity

Ch.2: A Fondness

It was hunger that awoke Lucy, and then the realization that she had neglected to feed Loki after she had promised him food. He had said nothing, which confused her slightly. His breath flowed easily against her cheek. She cracked one eye open, peering at him. He had rolled onto his side, facing her and looking thoughtful even in slumber. Not peaceful though. She suspected nothing gave him peace. Nor did innocence steal over him in his unconscious state as it did for some. He owned his sins even in his state of being unawares.

She hated to disrupt his rest, but she knew he had to eat, and probably relieve himself. She blushed at the thought, carefully lifting her hand to prod him awake. Instead of opening his eyes, his hands wrapped around her hand, pulling it close and snuggling against it. Lucy had to stifle a giggle. It was priceless, really, and she wished that she could take a picture. Not many people could boast that the shrunken god of mischief and fire had unwittingly cuddled with their hand.

Lucy nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment, deciding she would just settle in again and wait for him to release her. After a while, she dozed, drawing her hand back to her. In their unconscious state, Loki curled towards her, snuggling against her neck, completely blanketed by her hand.

Loki's eyes fluttered open. The sight of soft, black, undulating waves met his gaze. He blinked uncertainly. Hair. It was hair, he realized, curly jet black hair, and the warmth his face and hands were pressing against from either side, he realized, were the soft, exposed skin of a throat and a hand encompassing him, shielding him. Loki was speechless. He had become cuddled protectively against Lucy, her hand limp. He released his hold of her fingers, stretching slightly. She was oddly comforting. He pushed away any doubts about lacking tenderness, instead focusing on how to disentangle himself without waking her. To his chagrin, however, she made a little sound, her arm circling her head. He cursed as she shifted and settled once more. He was trapped. He could not wriggle away without her noticing, for he would have to clamber over her arm, or crawl closer and scale her shoulder, neither of which he relished.

Lucy, however, was far out of reach, having been called astrally by someone very familiar to Loki.

Lucy opened her eyes. The room she was in was tall, and vaulted, gold and finery glimmering everywhere and torchlight flickering against ancient stone. It reminded her of Hogwarts, in a sense, because often times she would stay with her parents during the school year, as they both still taught there. This place had an alien feel, though, that made Lucy shiver, hugging herself. She could feel eyes on her, so she turned, trying to find the source, and stumbled backward. A woman stood behind her, smiling. Her blue eyes were warm and gentle, and her blonde hair fell about her shoulders.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Lucy exclaimed, scrambling away. The woman held her hand up calmly.

"I will not harm you, child. I am Frigga, Queen of Asgard."

Lucy stopped abruptly. "Frigga? Asgard?" She took a tentative step towards the woman. "You're Loki's mother, aren't you?"

Sadness entreated upon the woman. "I am," she replied, bowing her head and clasping her hands just below her breasts, "Though he may say otherwise. I raised him, I care for him. He is my son as much as Thor is."

"That's what mom says about Enrique," Lucy said, relaxing slightly and going to sit on one of the plush chairs in the vast room. A fire crackled in the grate. Lucy stared into it.

"My son is with you yet, isn't he?" Frigga asked, walking to the mantle and turning her head to stare at Lucy. Lucy nodded hesitantly after a moment. "How did you know?"

"We have ways of seeing things," Frigga replied softly. She walked over to Lucy, who looked up at her warily at her as she bent down to her level. Frigga placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you for taking care of him," the Queen whispered, "Not many would. You sheltered him even knowing what you know of him. And I thank you for that. Not everyone has such purity of heart, or would so willingly offer asylum, especially without requiring a price."

Lucy didn't know quite what to say. "He's lonely, isn't he?" She asked suddenly. "I can tell. When he smiles sometimes, it isn't real. I can tell that, too. It's after I've said something I didn't know was mean. He just stops, and then he flashes that fake smile."

Frigga gave her a heartbreaking smile. "He probably will not appreciate the perceptiveness of children during his stay with you."

Lucy swung her feet a bit, careful not to hit the woman kneeling by her. "He's a sad little man with a lot of problems inside and out and absolutely no peace," she noted bluntly. To her surprise, Frigga laughed lightly, patting her leg as she stood. She offered Lucy her hand, and when the young witch took it, she pulled her onto her feet.

"You haven't told him any of this, have you?"

Lucy followed Frigga as she crossed the room to a window overlooking a garden. Twilight had fallen outside. Lucy shook her head in response. The two of them stared out, seeing different things.

"And do you pity him?" Frigga asked quietly. Lucy paused, trying to discern the answer. She wanted to be sure of herself and mean it. Face scrunching, she said, "No, I don't think I do, nor that I should."

Frigga's lips twitched, and she chuckled softly. "That is something he will appreciate. Tell me, what made you behave so-what made you save him?"

Lucy but her lip. "I wish I could tell you, really-" she shrugged -"but it wasn't out of pity. I wanted to. I just knew I had to. But that doesn't make any sense-except I would have felt horrible if I hadn't, and I couldn't let someone suffer when I knew I could do something about it."

Frigga turned to her, taking her chin in hand. Her eyes roved over Lucy's face, searching for something. Whatever she saw pleased her, her eyes staring down into Lucy's. "You did this out of the kindness of your heart, for his sake and not yours-I can see that now. Many people-and that includes children-are cruel and selfish, and cannot see past themselves. You are very different. You have in you one of the best aspects a Midgardian may possess-humanity. You have in you great humanity."

"Um...thank you, I think," Lucy said uncertainly. Frigga lowered her hand.

"We will be seeing each other again."

She smiled, and Lucy returned the expression after a moment. She could feel her eyelids drooping, and then they closed.

Loki was relieved when Lucy's arm moved ever so slightly, enough to allow him to crawl free from her. He tensed. A presence was in the room, one he recognized.

"You have a fondness for her, don't you?"

He sat back on the pillow, his bare feet sticking out over the edge, to stare at his mother. He laughed humorlessly.

"What could possibly impart upon you such a notion?"

Frigga sat on the edge of the bed, opposite of where Lucy's feet were splayed.

"As always, you are perceptive of others, but not of yourself," she sighed. He leaned towards her.

"And what could you mean by that?"

Frigga peered down at him thoughtfully, her eyes switching to Lucy, who still slept peacefully.

"She is a curiosity, is she not?"

"She has magic," was his only reply.

"You want me to believe that you have formed no attachment and that she is mere entertainment? Even now, you are afraid I have come to take you away from here to be planted somewhere else. I have merely come to visit my son."

Loki shut his mouth fast. Was he growing fond of her? Could he garner affection for some mortal child who undoubtedly merely took pity on him? He was not apt to acknowledge fondness, or interest beyond mere curiosity. The truth was, the girl was intriguing, and he was not sure of much beyond that. She had magic, yes (he found himself almost wishing Asgard had had the same attitudes toward magic), and a certain flare to her. She did not fear him as he wished her to, and continuous threats did nothing for impressing her. He would never admit he was lonely in the slightest, but a part of him squirmed under the uncomfortable knowledge that she knew, just by looking at him. He always came back to his belief that he needed no one. Why should he need the very wretched world that set such high expectations for him, gave him no opportunities, and wished to destroy him because of the monstrosity they perceived him as, aside from never measuring up to half of Thor's mighty shadow? He met Frigga's gaze, undaunted.

"She means nothing to me."

Sadness fell over Frigga like an unholy shawl. "Oh, Loki," she murmured, "still blind to your own inner workings and clinging to nonsensical notions. When will you realize-"

She broke off as Lucy stretched and groaned groggily, her eyes flickering behind their lids.

"She will awaken soon. I will see you, and of course you may call if you need me."

She prepared to stand. He lunged forward unexpectedly, but passed directly through her fingers. Smiling sadly, she disappeared just as Lucy arched her back and opened her eyes.

Lucy blinked lazily, panic seeping into her gaze when she did not immediately see or feel Loki. He watched her curiously, tilting his head. Had she already become attached to him, then? Did she take each charge of hers so seriously? He watched the relief flash across her features when he spoke, saying, "I am here, Lucy."

Her eyes darted downward, locking onto him. Very carefully, she picked him up and held him cupped in both hands, surprised when he offered no protest. She grimaced, noticing a bruise on his cheek where her hand had struck the night before.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I shouldn't have struck you."

"No, you shouldn't have," he said, the soles of his tiny feet tickling her palms as he drew his knees closer to his chest. They stared at each other. She drew her knees up as well, in the circle of her arms.

"Do you forgive me for it?" She asked softly. Loki blinked. No one apologized to him. No one, not even Frigga. They all made excuses, or proclaimed their reasons or justifications, but no one apologized, no one ever felt guilty, merely pity, which he loathed above their hatred for him. It was strange to ponder, her sincerity and lack of contempt. He still wasn't sure what to make of her. She was a constant in that she was so very full of surprises. She dredged up emotions best left buried in his opinion. He felt that they could have been close if she had grown up with him when he was young and vulnerable and friendless, that they could have learned together and done tricks together and laughed in secret corners. He was haltingly realizing that if he had ever desired a friend or companion, he would have wished for someone like Lucy. If he did that sort of thing, which he didn't. Damn her. He had already released his grudge and forgiven her. He scowled, and the girl's brow creased, not knowing that Loki frowned at himself.

She stretched her thumb upward, lightly touching his uninjured cheek.

"Do you forgive me?" She pressed.

"Should I?" He asked instead of replying.

"It's up to you," Lucy whispered, "But if it's all the same to you, I hope you do. I really didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't much like it either."

Loki pressed his lips together, gazing thoughtfully at the lines of her palm. She really meant him no harm. Why, he thought, should he alleviate her suffering, sooth her torment, when he could do nothing great for his own? But he could not do that to Lucy, even having just met her less than half a fortnight before. She was too much like Frigga, and he never found great pleasure in hurting Frigga.

"If it means so much to you, I may take it into consideration," he shrugged neutrally, "but the acceptance of my tutelage would have great effect in swaying me."

Lucy bit her cheek and narrowed her eyes, but nodded. It piqued his interests that she could discern all was not well with the agreement. She was too young to know she was being manipulated, but old enough and smart enough to know he had just snuck something past her. He also knew that even if she did understand, her desperation to make amends would drive her to agree regardless. Her thumb continued to absentmindedly caress the side of his face, and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax a moment as she gently stroked his hair. She began humming softly. Loki cracked his eyes at that.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?"

The humming stopped. "Don't you feel better?" Lucy asked. He almost scowled, but stopped himself.

"I am quite recovered, yes."

Lucy smiled, and he found it to not be unwanted. The witchling uncurled herself and stretched her legs out before her, swinging them over the side of the bed and standing. She placed Loki on her shoulder to hang on, whereupon he tangled his hands in a few strands of wild curls for balance as he sat, holding them like reins.

"Let's go scavenge some food, shall we?" Lucy said brightly, sliding into her slippers and housecoat.

"Would it not be best for you to wait for your family?" Loki asked as Lucy slipped into the hallway and padded down the dark carpeted hall. Loki could feel her shoulder undulate beneath him when she shrugged.

"When mom and dad go out on dates, they stay out late and don't always come home in the same night, and when they do, they're up late anyway and end up sleeping in. It's not like I'm unsupervised. My siblings are all old enough to take care of themselves and me, and aside from that, we have a house-elf-a free one."

"What is a house-elf?" Loki asked.

Once they reached the kitchen, she sat him on the counter and pulled herself up beside of him, watching their feet swing.

"Now will you tell me?" He persisted. Lucy cast him a sidelong glance, and then motioned for him to hide.

"Columbine," Lucy called softly. There came a pop, and a three foot tall, thin, skinny creature appeared, with large floppy ears, and a button nose. She wore a little blue-grey dress that matched her huge eyes.

"Yes, miss?" She squeaked.

"Would you mind fixing me something for breakfast, please?"

Columbine squealed happily and set to work.

"Columbine will fix miss Lucy's favorite!"

"She is your servant?" Loki suddenly hissed in her ear. Lucy had to keep herself from yelping or falling off of the counter. Loki had gotten onto her shoulder again without her noticing, peering through her hair at Columbine as the elf bustled about. Lucy nodded quickly while her back was turned, but then held her hand out and turned it from side to side. Loki remained silent until she had a plate to take back to her room. She sat cross-legged on her rumpled sheets, a tray under her plate, the door firmly closed and Loki by her elbow. His eyebrow rose.

"What is all of that?"

"Chorizo con huevos on a tortilla, re-fried beans, fried spice rice, fried potatoes, banana peppers, and salsa on the side; and she's making churos for desert," Lucy told him, pointing out each item as she named it, aside from the missing churos.

"I do not recognize this meal," Loki noted.

"If you don't like it, I can always get you something else later," Lucy told Loki, picking up her cup and taking a sip of tea. He would have snapped at her, but his stomach protested violently, so he consented, watching as she put smaller portions of everything to the side for him. They ate in silence.

Columbine came to take her dishes away, and told her quite cheerfully that the churos would be done in a bit, if she fancied having one. Lucy said she would like one very much, and they waited for the goods to finish. As soon as she was gone with the empty plate they had been on (Lucy and Loki had eaten three between them, with cinnamon stuck to their chins), Lucy placed her pint-sized charge on her shoulder and skipped to the bath to brush her teeth and wash her face and hands. Once back in her room, Lucy shimmied behind her partition with her leggings, knee-shirt, socks, and sneakers.

"Your clothes are in the little wardrobe!" She called, her pajamas appearing above the top of the screen as she laid them over it.

Scowling, he sorted through the outfits she had forced him into that he had not immediately hated. When he emerged, she was brushing out her hair before her mirror.

"We always have someone dropping in, so I've learned not to be caught unawares and in my night clothes since they might try changing me to their liking," Lucy explained, seeing his expression when she turned. She shrugged. "It happens when you're the baby of the family and friends circle."

She had barely finished speaking when a knock came at her door, a male child's voice calling from the other side excitedly, "Lucy, are you in there?"

Lucy swooped down and brought him up in her hand to eye-level.

"That's Pippin," she murmured. "I'll have to hide you. Stay in my hair."

He didn't have room to argue as she shoved him underneath a swath of curls, patting them into place before standing aside and swinging her room door open. Pippin, who had been leaning against the door, tumbled in at her feet. Loki, forced to clutch the side of her neck and various strands of hair, peered out at the boy. Pippin, as it turned out, was short for his age, and incredibly pale, with strawberry-blond hair so curly it put Shirley Temple to shame, and dimples. He upturned his face sheepishly to Lucy, who granted him an affectionate smile.

"Hi, Pippin," Lucy said sweetly, offering him a hand to help him up, "Anxious to see me?"

The boy blushed, nodding. Lucy, like everyone else, couldn't help but find him precious no matter how much he aged.

"What's that?" Pippin asked suddenly, staring intently at her shoulder.

"What's what?" Lucy asked innocently, staring around and hoping to the higher powers that be that Loki had hidden himself. Pippin's face scrunched in confusion that he shrugged off.

"I thought I saw something."

Lucy brushed it off light-heartedly. "So what did you want?" she asked. Pippin pouted. "You mean I can't just swing by and say hi?"

"Pfft. You've spoken."

Pippin blushed again. "Well...we could go to the park..."

Lucy shrugged. "Sure, just give me a minute, k? To wait outside."

Pippin blinked and complied. Lucy waited until he had gone before she gently extricated Loki and lowered him onto the balcony of her dollhouse.

"You have free reign of anything, and I'll keep my door shut tight. If you're hungry, I have chocolate in my night table. I won't be gone all day."

The little twerp lied. She was gone for hours, and though Loki was not hungry he was lonely and irritated that she had abandoned him, even it he would rather die than admit it, especially to her.

Hours later, when Lucy returned, closing her room door, Loki spoke for the first time in hours.

"Will this be a regular occurrence?"

Lucy paused in her yawning and stretching. "What?"

"Spending time with that other child," he said distastefully.

"Why, are you jealous?" Lucy said, not meaning it, stony silence meeting her question. She searched around her room until she found him, pulling him away at arm's length. His jaw was clenching and unclenching.

"You want to play on my DS while I take a nap?" she asked after a moment of sucking on her front teeth thoughtfully.

"No," he hissed shortly. Lucy sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll take you next time it you wish."

"No," he snapped, and Lucy shut her mouth.

"I'm sorry that you're hurting so much. But I have people I like to spend time with, and I can't always be around. The only thing would be to take you with me, and that wouldn't be fair to you. But it's not fair to them if I forget them and dance around with you all day to your heart's content. You have to learn how to share."

"You have no right to dictate what I do-or to judge me," he spat. Lucy frowned tiredly.

"I'm not. I'm telling you-as a friend-what's good for you."

Loki stopped scowling, instead unconsciously allowing the surprise stealing over him to show. "A friend?"

Lucy blinked. "...well...yes. Aren't we? Can't we be?"

He tilted his head to the side, asking to consider. After a pause, he said carelessly, "No, we are not."

Lucy blinked again, rapidly, stared at him long and hard. Her jaw clenched, she worried her lip, swallowing. Loki did not expect the quaver he next heard when she spoke.

"Well...that's fine. I just thought...never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. But if all you're going to do is push people away and lash out, you're going to be stuck like this, here, with no one you know and people you hate, for a very long time. Now you're friendless and alone, just like you wanted. I hope you're happy. Because you're going to regret those kinds of decisions. You're going to have an empty heart because you didn't want to know the one person who wanted to know you, the real you. And now we're both alone together."

After her solemn deliverance, she set him down quietly, turned the TV up, left her DS within reach, and laid down clutching a stuffed rabbit facing away from him. He tried to ignore it, but even with her animal covering her face, he knew she was crying-the fake fur and stuffing did nothing to stifle her tears. Loki closed his eyes resignedly, sitting down with his back to a pillow, and put his head in his hands. She was like that for the next week, not weeping, but depressed, mopey, and unusually quiet. She had not been any different to him otherwise, though, had not been unusually cruel.

"You have wounded her."

He lifted his head to find Frigga present once more. On the other side of the room, Lucy continued sleeping, unaware of their conversation.

"It is not my fault she is weak," he said dismissively. Creases appeared around Frigga's eyes.

"Is that what you think, that she weeps out of weakness? It seems that your perception has failed you once more. She weeps for similar reasons that you did."

He stood angrily. "I did not weep."

"Not visibly, no. But you wept bitterly inside. You were alone, and so is she. You were a shining hope for her, and she bonded to you rather quickly."

"She was foolish," he spat. Frigga knelt in front of him. He looked up at her. "Don't give me one of your speeches, or beg me to be nice. I am anything but."

Frigga sighed, glancing over at Lucy. "She is as friendless as you are and were, in a manner of speaking."

He opened his mouth angrily, but Frigga implored him with her eyes, and he did what he rarely ever would-he listened. "She has what you lacked with siblings, I suppose, but all of her siblings are older than she: the oldest are ten years older, and the youngest five, and the mortal child you saw earlier is only her friend because their parents are friends, and have been since long before she-or her siblings, for that matter-were born. If their mothers had not met, neither would they. She is not old enough yet to attend their schools, no other magical children live nearby, and mutants would not leave concealment-they are as threatened and feared as magic by Muggles, or Mundanes as some call them. The others of her kind are either too young or too old. She has no one she has befriended on her own merits, and she fears having to live up to standards others may have set for her predecessors. That is all I can impart upon you, but I pray it is sufficient."

"What another lengthy, wasted speech attempting to stir my heart."

Oh, he pretended not to care, or to notice, but the truth was that she was right- Lucy was achingly similar, although he would never admit such. In that past week, he had seen her withdrawing, becoming him.

"At least you admit you have one now," Frigga smiled wearily, and then she faded, sparing Lucy one last glance. Loki sat back down, watching the child's thin shoulders move with each breath. Lucy lay quietly for a time in a bedraggled and rumpled heap before she picked herself up with one final snort-cough, cleared her throat, blinked and began gathering some of her things. She had been napping.

"Where are you going?"

"Out." Lucy didn't pause as she stuffed a sketch pad, her DS, a book, a few drawing tools, headphones, and an iPod into a small messenger bag. Her voice was rough, but calm. "I need to be alone."

"Moth-Frigga told me about you."

"Did she?" Lucy said shortly. "I didn't think you and she talked very much since you can't even call her your mom."

"What I call her is none of your concern," he snapped. Lucy paused in her search for her tin of macaroons.

"I think it's only decent to. She's the only one who'll ever unconditionally love someone notoriously hard to love, and I think she really, really loves him. And I think that it doesn't matter who you're related to by blood so long as you have something like that. But you don't care what I think, do you?"

"Yes," he found himself saying softly, "I do."

Lucy paused uncertainly. "Prove it."

"You ask too much of me," he said haughtily. He fell silent.

"Come with me...to my place."

He tipped his head to the side. "I am not your friend. I will not play with you, I may or may not humor your whims-"

"Um, I just-I just need the company, actually," she whispered, pushing a curly dark lock behind her ear. She stared down at her trainers. "I'm lonely, and I know you are too."

"How dare you-"

"If I left you alone, and didn't bother, and never cared, you're saying it would make you happy?" Lucy said skeptically. "Because I think your hate it. You did last time. I thinks that's why you were mad at me. I didn't want that for you. So I'm asking you to please come with me. I have macaroons and poetry."

He seemed to consider. He hated giving in and agreeing, hated letting her know she had bit the head of the nail...but he also knew that a part of him he loathed basked in the attention, wanted nothing more than to not be left alone. What would he do when Thor no longer cared to stop him? He had to pull bigger stunts and longer, more drastic and sometimes desperate schemes, cons, and machinations to ensure involvement. He had probably already been forgotten by all save Frigga. But Lucy...she had never once forgotten him, even when he had been cruel to her. She had fed, clothed, and groomed him, run his baths and taken down books for him, all the while withholding her tears because she knew it did no good to cry-he wanted none of her 'weakness' ...nor her friendship, it seemed. And they were both alone together, just as she had predicted.

"I shall go with you to...'your place', wherever it may be."

Lucy smiled for the first time since he had truly tried to break her by denying her what he had always wanted. She picked him up and held him close, but carefully, so she would not harm him. He would never vocalize the small truth that it felt nice to be cared about by someone that wasn't Frigga, but who resembled her in character so much that it hurt. She saw him. He had purposely hurt her, but still she sought his friendship. Because she knew they both needed it.

For the first time in a long while, he felt at ease and content.