AUTHOR'S NOTE. Yes, I know that it has been about 8 years since I last updated this fanfic! But I finally subscribed to DisneyPlus to see the Loki series, loved it, watched it several times, and felt compelled to write about Loki again! I'm planning on working on a TVA inspired fanfic but in the meantime I thought I'd continue working on this one. Enjoy! Reviews are always appreciated!

Chapter 19

Loki glared down at the pitifully small bath. Back on Asgard his bathtub was bigger than this mortal's whole bathroom. Disgruntled, he folded his arms and glanced around.

The room was pleasant enough, he decided grudgingly. Spotlessly clean. The silver taps shining, the white tiles glistening. There was also that smell of lilies again. He frowned thoughtfully. Maybe it was the soap she used.

He quickly filled the bath, undressed, and slipped beneath its steaming depths. With a groan of pleasure he leant back against an inflated head cushion that was fixed to the bath, and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later he heard a gentle knock. Eyes still closed, he smirked. The mortal had asked him to leave his dirty clothes outside the bathroom door so that she could put them into that washing machine contraption she had talked about, but he decided it would be more fun to conveniently forget so that she would have to come into the room while he was in the bath.

"Where are your clothes?"

"My apologies," he returned through his grin. "I forgot to leave them outside. But you are free to enter and collect them, the door is not locked."

He could almost sense her frown of disapproval and had to bite back a chuckle.

"I'll collect them later. I've left some clean clothes for you outside the door."

"Oh, come now. Do not be such a prude. You have seen a naked man before."

He met with silence and finally heard her walk away.

Oh well. It had been worth a try.

He closed his eyes again.

April stormed down the stairs. Oh, he was so bloody infuriating! Forgotten to leave them? What crap! He had done that on purpose!

Marching through the living room she decided some gardening was in order. Lots of deadheading. The roses desperately needed it and she could let off some steam at the same time. The garden always helped relax her. It would also be a relief to put some distance between her and the strange man. He said that he wouldn't hurt her but he still frightened her. And she still didn't trust him. She dreaded to think what it was he was hiding from her.

Twenty minutes of manic snipping later she felt fractionally better and decided to take a break, sitting on her favourite bench right at the end of the garden. She loved this spot because of the beautiful view across the meadow behind her property. It was owned by the local wildlife trust and was an area of Scientific Interest because of its rare orchids. It sloped gently down to a wooded valley divided by a shallow rocky stream. She actually kept a small section of her boundary free of shrubs and had a simple wire fence so that she could see through it to enjoy the landscape. She watched the sunset from here most evenings.

"Ah, there you are."

April clutched at her chest as she twisted around. "You almost gave me a heart attack!" His stealth was unnerving. She hadn't even heard him approach.

He smirked as he stared down at her, long damp hair curling around his shoulders. "My apologies." He gestured to the bench. "May I sit?"

She was surprised he even bothered to ask but nodded anyway. She tried not to focus upon the fact he was wearing David's clothes. She quickly returned her attention back to the view.

They sat in silence for several long moments, simply listening to the birds singing and bees buzzing around them. A pleasant breeze rustled the foliage and gently teased their faces.

"Your bath is very small," he said at length.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, like I said before. You know where the front door is."

"Ouch."

She glared at him. "I'm guessing you're…" she hesitated, considering the least offensive way of putting it. "High born?" There could be no denying that there was something about him, something…regal. It was in his voice, his delivery, the way he moved. That privileged arrogance.

"I am," he returned rather smugly.

But just how high born, she wondered. "A king?" she threw back lightly.

"Not yet." There was passion in his tone as he folded his arms irritably. Not quite anger, but close enough.

"Prince then?"

He didn't answer, his jaw tensing as he stared across the meadow. He looked slightly ill at ease. As if he had said too much and was regretting it.

"Princess?" she dared.

If his eyes were daggers she would have been killed on the spot.

She sighed. "Are you going to tell me anything about yourself? Like your real name for example? I'm not stupid. I know you're lying." She didn't know for sure, she only suspected, but he didn't have to know that.

He quickly looked away again, confirming the fact. "You sit here often?" he sidetracked.

"You're changing the subject."

"And you're trying my patience."

She gave up. "Yes," she snapped, resigned. "I sit here most evenings. I like to watch the sunset."

His frown softened. "It is a pleasant view."

"It was one of the reasons why we moved here." Grief flooded back, burning the back of her throat.

"You have lived here long?"

"About ten years."

She chewed down upon her lip restlessly. Unable to stop herself, she peeked across at his jeans. David's jeans. She had chosen black ones because David rarely wore them and she hoped it would prove less of a painful reminder. The khaki green T-shirt was also a colour David didn't wear often.

"Do the clothes fit ok?"

"They will suffice."

Suffice?! Something inside her snapped at his curt reply. "Oh that's it! I've had enough! I came outside to try to relax! If you don't want to be civil I'm going back indoors."

As she stood up and started past him his hand shot out for her wrist. "Stop! Wait!" He eased his grip. "Please. I am sorry."

She looked down at him in frustration and he flashed her a sheepish smile, brows drooping endearingly as he released her arm. When she finally sat back down, heavily in protest, he ran his hands down his thighs. "The clothes are very comfortable, thank you. I like this material."

Now why couldn't he have said that in the first place, she despaired.

"It's called denim."

"Very nice."

He suddenly flexed his fingers conjuring tendrils of shimmering green. A flower appeared in the palm of his hand, a rose with golden petals. "Peace offering?" he declared hopefully.

April looked at the rose, mesmerised by its beauty, but she shook her head. "No."

He blinked at her in surprise. "No?"

"I…I want something else." Tears pricked at her eyes as they wandered back over David's clothes. "You said that you would pay my hospitality with magic."

The rose disappeared as he watched her curiously. Then understanding dawned. He frowned, but there was sympathy in his eyes. "I told you. I cannot bring your husband back."

"I know that."

"Then what is it you want?"

She took a deep breath. "I want to say goodbye."