Chapter Five: Bellis Perennis
The woman had fallen from the horse, not once but twice as they rode the next morning, and he could not stand it. It was slowing them down. He lifted her much to her distress to sit in front of himself upon the steed. Using his arms like barriers to prevent it from occurring again. He could tell she was uncomfortable whenever he looked down at her. Loki considered getting off the horse, tying her to it and just slapping it off in the direction it needed to go. He fought the urge. He reminded himself he would not be the god of pettiness, nor should he gain any more unwanted titles than he already had.
He looked whenever she shifted, her hand currently was stroking the steed's neck gently whispering to it, "Þú hlýtur að hafa verið hræddur líka. Svo hugrakkur hestur að þú hleypur ekki í burtu." Something about calling the horse brave. Probably for not having run off that night.
It was driving him a bit mad that she could whisper to the horse and it was probably more likely to understand her than they would each other. He let out a sigh and she froze, lifting her gaze to him for only a moment before she shifted to sit upright and put her hands in her lap clutching the basket of herbs tightly.
"Of old was the age when Ýmir lived. Out of Ymir's flesh the earth was created," he found it strange to try and sing this so it simply came out more poetic than that of song. He had her attention though, "Ginnungagap, Niflheim, Muspelheim. Fire, ice, drops are falling. Ymir, Jotun, creates the Aesir."
He felt her draw in a deep breath before holding a steady note, "Ár var alda þar er Ýmir bygði," her eyes were closed and would not see him smile, "Ór Ymis holdi var jörð of sköpuð. Ginnungagap, Niflheim, Muspelheim. Ild, is, dråber falder. Ymir, Jotun, skaber aser." Perhaps they could communicate better than he thought. What came next from her was not song, "Fyrirgefðu að ég var hrædd við þig, Loki." An apology for being fearful of him. She had opened her eyes but they stayed to the dirt below them.
He looked ahead to the road. This is what he wanted though, was it not? The reason he kept coming with Thor on these trips to Midgard. Loki admitted to himself that he liked the attention when he wanted it. The unconditional worship of the Midgardians, he wanted it… in truth, he'd rather them not fear him. Some part of him liked when she had called out his name as a prayer another part detested the context it happened in. Why could he not have the simplicity that Thor received? A showering of gifts. He knew the answer to that but did not like it.
Lost in his thoughts he did notice something suddenly touching his ear. His eyes flickered down to the woman, she was reaching up at him tucking one of the herbs behind his ear. At his gaze she had stilled but when he said not a word and lifted his hues back to the road ahead she continued. She did not want gifts from him yet she gave him gifts of herbs every time they met.
Once they reached the very outskirts of Lundr something began troubling the woman again. She was fidgeting, making it difficult for him to focus on the road. He slowed the horse, "What." He asked flatly. Did she have to pee?
Although she may not have known the word his meaning translated clearly, "Það myndi valda miklum vandræðum að sjást ríða með guði, hvað þá guði lyganna."
He took a moment. He was unsure but knew she was speaking about trouble and him in the context of being a god. Oh. Loki believed he may understand given the situation. He breathed deeply and waved a hand in front of his face. Before her eyes, he was no longer Loki the God of Mischief, he was now a boring villager on a horse. She was staring. He could not help himself but to smile slyly and bring a finger to his lips.
They rode into the village and gained stares as a tight-knit community would do. However, much like his other experiences, the villagers paid no further heed if they presented no threat. There was something else taking much of their attention from the pair anyhow. And he narrowed his eyes when he saw an annoying blonde Asgardian performing a drinking contest with Volstagg outside a mead hall. Loki rubbed his forehead.
Once they tied the horse to a waddle fence the woman seemed to know where she was going, letting her wander away to whatever had been so important to her. He slipped away from sight of the villagers and reappeared as Loki, making his way up to the company of his fellow Asgardians as they jeered. Sif rolled her eyes at something that was spoken and spotted him first out of the group, "Found him."
Thor side-eyed Sif but then saw Loki, "Perfect timing! I am about to out-drink Volstagg here, come watch dear brother." He loudly claimed as he slammed back another mug. It was taken quickly to refill by a smiling Midgardian woman.
"In your wildest dreams." The ginger Volstagg mirrored the action of pouring all the liquor from his own mug back into his mouth.
Loki had only approached them because a question was brewing at the back of his mind since he had seen them, "What are you all even doing here?" This was not the village they all originally came down to. Why had they changed villages, was Thor getting bored of the people who lavished him or had they given all their stores of food to the blonde pig.
"We were looking for you," Sif spoke plainly, "a man came crawling back to the village after his party had left for a journey to hunt. He came back raving mad about Fenrir... Some of them are still missing." She was accusing him of something, he knew what but he raised his brows in shock.
"Really?" Playing dumb was an art and he had talent, "You know I've seen some of the wolves out here and honestly they are pretty hefty. One might say as big as a horse." Sarcasm was his best friend.
"Like I said before," Thor chugged another mug, "it was probably just a wolf. I mean. Look at him, he's obviously been enjoying his own little paradise; he ran off because he doesn't like to share." His brother chuckled in a good-natured manner.
Loki now frowned in real confusion, "What are you talking about?"
Sif looked from Thor to Loki, "You should wear flowers more often." Her remark carried the hint of a chuckle.
The herb tucked behind his ear. He'd forgotten about it. He did not even know what kind of plant was resting there. His hand pulled it gently from its place, a daisy, "Yes, well. Be that as it may," his voice was curt, "you've found me. You can all go back to merriment and—" He paused spying the woman carrying sacks to the horse to tie up followed by another fellow carrying more sacks. She wore a beaming smile and was laughing with him.
"And?" Fandral made motions with his hands as if for Loki to continue what he was about to say.
"And, I'm going back to my little paradise, so no need to look for me. I'll return home in a couple of days." Not only to get out of further questioning from his fellow Asgardians he also vanished in a display of magic for any onlooker. Reputation had to be maintained.
He returned to being a villager look-alike before walking up behind the woman who had just finished tying the last sack onto the steed. Leaning down he whispered against her ear, "Did you miss me?" He said it low enough to not be heard by the man who was standing to the side of her now crossing his arms.
He was starting to enjoy startling her like this. She metaphorically jumped out of her skin, though she did turn and slap him in reflex, then she apologized timidly.
"Hver er vinur þinn hér?" The man spoke, he reminded Loki of a burly brown bear.
She swallowed, "Oh, Lo… Loke." Oh for Odin's sake. She had almost blurted out Loki and now he was stuck with a name that just dropped the E noise. Lok.
"Loke?" The man questioned looking to Loke to confirm this.
"H-Hann er mállaus." She made the same gesture he had a while ago, placing her hand to her throat, opening her mouth, then gesturing back out without a sound. He wanted to applaud her for the effort though lying was certainly not a talent of hers.
Loke nodded dully. Leaning upright and repeating the display.
The burly man did not seem so fooled at first. Clearly, Loke had just whispered into her ear, but he and this woman must have had a strong bond for him to believe her or let it go. His face told Loki all he needed to know on that front, "Óheppileg. Ég skal biðja Óðinn fyrir honum." And he was going to pray to Odin for him. Great. If anything, his father would be amused that his son was being silent.
Loke smiled politely.
He returned the woman to her village without another late-night incident, having finally learned what it was she had desperately needed to come all that way for. Most of the sacks were filled with seeds to sow and the rest held rich river mud mixed with a blacksmith's forge ash to replace some of the nutrients that had washed away. Loki had gotten off the steed just before the village, helping her down from it he wanted one thing before he left for his own home.
It brought the widest grin to his face that he did not even have to ask. She muttered though, "Þakka þér fyrir."
He placed a hand to his ear and leaned in, "Sorry, what was that?"
He liked the way she turned up to him with a begrudging pout then the way she took in a breath before speaking more clearly, "Þakka þér fyrir, Loki." She had thanked him.
He embellished his bow to her, "You're very welcome my little Midgardian." And he was not even mad when he heard a noise from her that sounded like a stifled snort.
They could not speak each other's language, yet their intentions were speaking far louder than the words themselves.