Henrietta opened her eyes.
She looked around, furrowing her brows, surprised she felt so full of life. She could have sworn she had just collided with a bouncing ten-tonne vehicle after staring at it like an idiot, blinded by her tears.
Then she remembered. She had told Loki to leave and never come back.
"No," she muttered, then shot up "he can't do that!"
"Easy, Henrietta. Not so fast!"
She looked around wildly, then grew surprised, for she found herself looking at the sympathetic face of Tony Stark. His face broke out into a grin.
"Man. It's really good to see you up and running."
She embraced him tight before she could stop herself, then realised what she was doing and detached herself, going red.
"Tony… Sorry. I just thought I wouldn't ever see anyone again, when that truck was flying towards me. Ah, you probably don't, but… You don't happen to know where-"
"-where Loki Odinson is?" He shrugged, but didn't grow cold. "I believe your house burned down once you left-"
"-what?!"
"-so he's probably just finished restoring it. He rang up around midnight yesterday for someone from SHIELD to come around and watch you until you woke up."
She hardly dared believe it.
"It's not that difficult to use a phone, Henrietta." Stark snorted at her expression, "Even the god of mischief or whatever can manage."
"It's not that… it's just… we argued before. I told him to leave." She said blandly. "I thought he had gone."
"Ah. Is that why he'd burned your house down?" Tony muttered, but not loud enough for her to hear. "But no, he's not gone. The doctors were 'round this morning, said you can go home as soon as you're awake."
"Great!"
She swung her legs out of bed, then realised she was in a nightgown and looked at him helplessly. He stood, stretching, turning away tactfully.
"I need to get going, then, Hattie, if that's okay with you. A limo's waiting for you outside - it'll take you home. Leave all your things here, they'll bring them for you later."
"Thank you, Tony." She said solemnly. "Truly. I'll ring you up some time this week, soon about the meeting."
"Take your time." He said, as he left. "I have a feeling this mess isn't not going to be repeating anytime soon."
"What do you mean?"
He glanced at her, then shook his head.
"Poor man. See you, Hattie."
"Goodbye."
Her heart started pounding. Of course, Loki must have been incredibly worried. It must have hurt him. A lot.
She changed (Tony had brought her dress), then rushed down to the car and was off. She half expected her house to be charred black, but when they pulled up that wasn't the case at all.
After throwing a thanks to the chauffeur, she got out of the car and stumbled to her door, fumbling for her keys. She slotted them in, pushed open the door and stole a glance around - everything was cleaned up, ordered and definitely not charred or burned.
"Loki?" She called, searching every room. "Loki Laufeyson! I want to talk to you!"
Silence answered her. Henrietta ran to his room and found it perfectly made, as though nobody had ever been there - then froze, for there was a note on the pillow.
I'll come one last time on Sunday afternoon. Then, I will depart, as you have requested.
L . L .
She kissed the note without thinking, then checked her phone. It was Sunday, a little past twelve. He ought to be here any moment.
Henrietta wandered up to her room and collapsed on her ready-made bed, thinking of what she should say to him. She didn't want him to go, that was more than certain. A lot more than certain.
"Loki?" She shot up suddenly, remembering her small companion. "Kitten, where are you?"
There was a soft mew, then a gentle padding and Loki the cat appeared, running at her, with a green bow tied neatly around his neck.
She hugged him tight, whispering to him, unable to let go.
"Imagine what would have happened if I had died, Loki." She murmured into his fur. "Both of you would have been sad."
"Sad?" A voice said softly. "I don't think that is the right word."
Henrietta stood, placing the cat gently on the bed.
"You're invisible? Don't be. Come out." She said, looking around. "Please. I want to talk to you."
He appeared before her, looking severely conflicted. He wouldn't meet her eyes fully, stealing glances at her with his hands folded firmly behind his back.
And he looked broken. His hands shook, his head was bowed, his pride was deflated; he was thinner than he was before.
"Here I am." He stated, without his usual flair.
"I can see that." She whispered, something blocking her from rushing to him. Perhaps it was the fear in his eyes.
"So, goodbye." He smiled sadly, casting his eyes down. "I suppose we all have to part in the end. I just don't want it to end on such a note. No, Henrietta," he shook his head softly, "don't do that."
She was crying, although her face stayed solemn. Tears ran down her face in streams.
"No, carry on. Don't mind me." She managed. "Finish what you have to say, then I'll say what I want to say."
He managed half a smile, although he looked far from happy.
"That's it, I suppose. And thank you for your help. I would have suffered more if it wasn't for you. Your turn."
She wiped her eyes, then stuck out her chin.
"Is that all you have to say to me?"
His lip was trembling.
"Odin, no. No. Hattie, Hattie." His hands began to visibly shake. "I'm practising restraint."
"Restraint?" She sniffed, then smiled. "From what?"
He shook his head as though in finality.
"Unfortunately, I've lost. I'm not strong enough."
He opened his arms, casting his eyes down, offering her an invitation for a hug.
Henrietta gave a cry of, well, many things put together - joy, sadness, desperation, delight, relief - and raced into his arms, embracing him so tight that his eyebrows shot up as he stumbled.
"Loki, Loki, don't leave. Don't ever leave me. Never." She whispered, burying her face into his chest. "No matter what I say. Stay, stay, stay."
She felt his chest move up and down, although still, his eyes stayed dry. He furled his fingers into the material of her dress and pressed his mouth into her shoulder, holding her tighter than he usually allowed himself to.
"I don't deserve to stay." He said after a while. "Knottie, I burned down your house. I wanted to see you cry. You're far better off without me, trust me."
She unstuck herself from him and beamed up at him, looking very much like the five-year-old she once was, although she wasn't aware of it.
"That's your opinion." She laughed, hugging him tight, breathing in and out with relish. "Oh, I do love your smell."
Loki wasn't expecting this and grinned.
"Very well. In that case I would love to stay."
He let go of her with some effort, sighing with relief, then laughed and grabbed her hands.
"I was thinking of where to go. I was convinced you would send me away. I thought, "I know, I'll sabotage the Stark tower, I've done that once already." "
She laughed, although she tried to frown in disapproval.
"Tony's a good man. I would hate to irritate him. But, no. Do you know what you should do now?"
"Sleep." He replied with a sigh. "I look awful, I know."
She giggled.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning. Good night."
She turned away, but he took her shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead before she did so; so faintly it was as though he only brushed the top of her head.
"Good night."
It was morning when both of them woke up, but it was so early that it was still dark. Henrietta had showered and was reading by lamplight when there was a faint knock on the door.
"Hallo."
Loki came in, cautiously.
"Good morning, sweet." He murmured, sitting on the bed. "Did you rest well?"
"I did."
Still, he did not touch her as he usually did, as though he really was practising restraint. That touched her heart and she went pink with pleasure.
"What is that?" He said, after a moment of stillness, pointing to the table in the corner. Hattie closed the book and looked at where he was pointing to.
"That? Oh. That's my Uncle's old gramophone. It still works."
"Gramophone?"
"It plays music." She explained. "You put a disc on that box, then lower the needle onto it, wind it up, and there you go."
"Fantastic!" He sprang up and approached it. "Then let us dance."
"I wouldn't know how to dance like you do, Loki." She said, although she rose. "I only know how to dance like my uncle showed me."
"Oh, that's not a problem." He chuckled, picking up how to set up the gramophone with admirable pace. "Dancing is an art, dear Hattie, that can be learned by everybody."
He hummed as the music started playing, although after a moment, he frowned.
"Now I'm stumped. How do you dance to this?"
Hattie lit the lamp so that they were in the half-dark, then took his hands.
"This, Loki, is called slow dancing." She placed one of his hands around her waist and took the other. "Then, we do this…"
She put her head on his shoulder delicately, leaning into the crook of his neck.
"And we dance."
The lamp turned off as the sun came up, casting a faint, hopeful glow over the setting, whilst the soft voice of Jo Staford warmed the atmosphere:
No other love can warm my heart
Now that I've known the comfort of your arms
No other love.
Oh the sweet contentment that I find with you,
Every time, every time.
No other lips could want you more,
For I was born to glory in your kiss.
Forever yours.
I was blessed with love to love you
'Til the stars burn out above you
'Til the moon is but a silver shell.
No other love, let no other love
Know the wonder of your spell.
Loki hummed to the song, steering her around the room, chuckling to himself every once in a while.
"The singing lady knows what's swimming around in my head." He whispered into her ear. "I suppose you know it by now too, don't you, Hattie? All those romance novels in this house."
"Oh, I've had practice." She murmured, grinning. "You know, when I was young, I used to take the big broom out of the cupboard in the kitchen, put on these songs, then dance with the broom, pretending it was you."
Loki felt his heart give a strange flip. He was suddenly very aware of the fact that he had only visited three times in the whole seventeen years of her life since she met him.
"Oh, don't make me feel so guilty, Knottie."
"I'm not done." She teased, leaning further into his neck. "I used to cross down the days on my calendar, knowing the day you would come again was closer. I could only guess when you would come. I did not know the day, but I hoped-"
He held her tight, heart squeezing.
"Say no more, Henrietta, dear." He managed, his throat tight. "Inflict no more than I have already done on my own, I beg of you."
There was something about these words of love, of trust and of commitment that made him loosen his grip on her and pull away after the song was finished. The man deep inside him was curled up into a ball and watching the walls of the prison with anxious placidity, biting his lips and tapping his fingers on the black.
"What is it?" She said, as he looked away.
"Nothing. It's just…" He let go of her hands and cast his eyes down. "I feel like such a fool."
He barked out a nervous laugh, then quietened down and continued.
"I have been behaving in a manner so crude and vile towards you… If my mother only saw, she would weep. Dear mother. It was not how I was raised. I don't know… I don't know how I forgot about it."
"But here you are, remembering." She said with a small smile, making to take his hands again, but he pulled them out of her reach.
"Hattie. I'm not capable of change."
They searched one another's faces.
"Perhaps if this moment was twenty years ago, perhaps I would be, but now… Oh, bother, I don't know what now is. I'm not myself. Something is wrong. I can't control my outbursts."
His voice broke. He trained a sad gaze onto her hands.
"Like before you went out on that date. I was terribly… terribly…"
"Jealous?"
"Yes." He admitted, pressing his lips together. "Jealous, angry, hurt, painfully aggressive. I don't think - at least I hope not - I was like that before. I had more patience, a lot more of it."
Hattie tried to take his hands again, but again, he pulled them out of her reach. She waited for him to continue, watching his features with her breath stuck in her throat.
"You may find this hard to believe, but I'm afraid." His voice dropped to a hush so gentle Hattie had to lean in to catch his words. "So afraid."
"No you're not." She whispered back. "You're not scared of anything."
"You're too kind. It's rather embarrassing to say, but - what if I told you I was afraid of the dark?"
He cautiously raised his eyes to glance at her. She smiled.
"Then I would ask you why are you only telling me this now."
He breathed a sigh of relief that only he caught and folded his hands behind his back.
"It's true. The dark. I'm scared of myself. What I will see, that it won't end. It sounds mad, I know. And yet I still love it." He broke off, sighing. "Like a fool. Love it like an old mistress that a man keeps coming back to once his heart is broken. I have tried to break free from it, but I can't. I can't."
He took a few steps back, leaving her heart beating and swelling with sorrow, for he was so close and yet so far away, lost in his mind and his memories. Just like that boy with the kite.
Loki looked at her. He was shrouded in a shadow, so his sharp features were hidden.
"But I am selfish, Hattie. Horribly selfish. My heart is cold as the ice that I was born from, I have a tendency to hate and wish destruction upon others rather than love. A tendency that outweighs all others by a million fold. You have probably seen it. But you have not heard all of it."
She opened her mouth to interject, but he shook his head quickly.
"Don't speak yet, love," he muttered, desperation lining his voice, "please let me say this through to the end. I fear if I end this now you won't hear me say it again and I will hate myself for not finishing. It will rot inside me, cause me grief."
She nodded. His voice was bitter and tense, as though it cost him pain to speak.
"Before your second visit, I had sought death. I was dangling off a mountain. I let go, running from shame and confrontation. After a year of torture under the being I mentioned once, as you may remember, I submitted. I hate to say this, but my brother Thor wouldn't have done so. He would have faced it for centuries. I had no such trouble; it didn't take long for me to agree. I was angry at all, at the fates, my father, myself. I wished to hurt others, see them go through what I had. I tried to take over Midgard, earth, killing many in the process."
He didn't watch her any longer. He was speaking softly, with closed eyes.
"I wish for you to know who you are precisely dealing with. I'm not short of a devil, a monster, Hattie. Terrible. And yet, still…"
He looked up at her slowly, swallowing, his face pale.
"Still, I cannot bring myself to stay away from you. More. Hattie."
"I'm listening to you." She breathed. "I'm listening."
"...I don't deserve it at all, not even a little bit, but I have to - I must try… I wish to ask you for…" He broke off, stuttering. "For forgiveness. I'm sorry for all I have done. Truly."
There was a silence, broken only by the shaky breathing of two people attempting to rejoin their souls once again.
Henrietta breathed out a sigh. She smiled. She took a few steps towards him and paused until she was only a few centimetres away from him, reaching out to take his hands - this time, he didn't resist.
"Do you know what you did just now, Loki?"
"What?" he whispered, shaken, disbelieving, incredulous, "What did I do?"
"You told me the truth."
There was a long, long silence. Loki shut his eyes, for the battle and chaos that was turning inside him was getting very hard to bear. Guilt smothered relief, then turned and disappeared under its weight, then to and fro and back again, releasing clouds of dust and turmoil that stuck in his throat and lungs.
"I suppose I did." He managed. "It feels rather strange."
Hattie nodded, then laughed.
"Do you remember how I used to greet you, when I was still a child?"
He looked blank. She stood on her tiptoes, placed a finger to his lips, then placed a kiss on his left cheek, then his right.
"Just like this." She said softly, smoothing down his collar. "And I forgive you. Of course I do. How could I not?"
He looked as though he was having trouble breathing.
"Remember what I said about restraint?" He managed, as she leaned against his chest. "Well, that's gone out of the window."
He enveloped her face in his hands and planted a delicate kiss on both of her cheeks, in turn. She went pink.
"And so I return the gesture, as I should have many times already."
His eyes lingered on her lips. He felt something tear through his body and shudder through his lungs. Henrietta shut her eyes and breathed through her nose, beginning to shake her head.
"Loki, Loki, we need to get out of this room." She breathed. "Outside, in the daylight."
He chuckled, brushing her lips with his thumb, unconsciously lowering his head towards her.
"I don't know if I can, Henrietta, dear. The temptation is too compelling, and I have never been one for saying no to my desires"
"But I can." She placed a quick kiss on his thumb and took his hands away gently. "We need to go outside."
His face was very close to hers now.
"And why is that?" He murmured, revelling in the depths of her eyes. "Why should we leave this room, sweet?"
She closed her eyes and covered his mouth, as she had done before. He started planting kisses on the tip of her fingers as he studied her eyes with pleasure.
"Because if we stay in this room…" she whispered, looking away, "I fear that I will not leave it a maiden."
With those words she turned and slipped away, quick as whisper, leaving him disorientated and still, still lost in her eyes.
Henrietta slipped out into the garden and behind a tree, breathing heavily, her face and heart throbbing. A laugh escaped her, so glad everything was going so well - she saw the man he used to be in his eyes. The man she was in love with.
She peeked around the trunk, waiting for him to come outside, but she was the one unprepared. He teleported right behind her and covered her eyes.
"Boo."
She turned and giggled, then fled a few steps, then turned.
"Let's go shopping!"
"Shopping? What, at this hour?" He called, looking upwards towards the beaming sun. "Why shopping?"
"Because there are a lot of people around at the mall and we won't be tempted with them around."
"You're too sly in all your virtue, maiden." He said, coming towards her. "But if that is your wish, let us do so." He took her hand and bowed over it. "I am more than happy to be of assistance as both a hanger for carrier bags and a door opener. Nothing more, if that is what you want."
"Let's go, let's go." She pulled him off towards the door with eagerness in her step. "And I saw the two bars of gold on the table. You really didn't need to do that."
He changed into his mortal clothes which he bought a few weeks ago at the mall and laughed.
"I don't parasite off others, Hattie. Especially not off young, innocent women. Talking of men and women," he prompted, once they left the house. "What happened to that Andrew fellow? You were supposed to be meeting him that Saturday."
"Ah." She sighed. "I texted him before. I told him I missed it because I was hit by a truck - poor Andrew. He took it as a move to push him away, and submitted. Not rudely, very sincerely, but he won't be trying again."
They walked along in silence for a while, brooding.
"You sound disappointed." He muttered, offering her an arm.
"Not in the way you may think." She said gently. "I suppose I'm just disappointed in the circumstances. You know - that it had to turn out this way."
"I don't understand something, Henrietta." He clutched her hand and pressed it to his chest. "You literally have a heart of gold - no, don't deny it, I'm just stating facts - and are a treasure in every possible way. Men dream of women like you, they write poetry and ballads about women like you and yet you are, what, twenty-one?"
"Twenty-two." She prompted.
"Twenty-two," he continued, "and have not kissed a man once."
"Yes I have." Henrietta grinned.
"Oh." A minute crease appeared between his brows. "Well. Then I'm mistaken."
Hattie realised that he suddenly drooped and grew rather solemn. She could barely keep herself from laughing.
"I have promised my heart to him, you know? I said to myself that I will never kiss until he is proclaimed my husband. Sometimes I thought such an oath was silly, given I only saw him a couple of times, but I stayed valiant. I'm so glad I did."
She let the silence drag on, then burst out laughing at his expression.
"You must realise that I'm talking about you, Loki of Asgard. As for your question… well. You are aware that I have been blessed with more wisdom and capabilities than the average mortal, aren't you?"
He kissed her hand with a delighted sort of flourish and tightened his on hers.
"Very much so."
"Well, what do I say? I wanted someone who exceeded my capabilities. Someone to look to when things get tough, someone to depend on. No mortal man has met them yet, and so I have only kissed you."
He pulled her to a stop, causing the stream of people to swerve around them. They stood in the middle of the path, oblivious completely to the glances and frowns they were receiving from blocking the way.
"I am honoured." He said solemnly. "Truly. I'll say this time and time again. I'm not worthy to even breathe in your presence, for you are a queen, Henrietta. I'm a mere cattle herder in comparison."
"Let us continue." She held her head high, although her cheeks flushed deeply and her eyes began to dart towards the features of his face. "Ah. And I should probably mention something, but I don't want to ruin the atmosphere."
"Nothing you say could ruin the atmosphere. Please go ahead."
"Very well. I promised - now don't react before I finish, Loki - a man named Mr. Stark a phone call regarding both of us."
"I'm intrigued." He hummed.
"He is to invite us to dinner."
Loki furrowed his brows.
"Dinner? That's a very strange request, given the fact that I threw him out of his own fifty-storey building a couple of years back. And how on earth did you suddenly come into contact with him? And my brother Thor, if I may add. You don't exactly bump into them on the street."
"It's quite a long story."
"Well, we do have all day." He chuckled. "Am I right in assuming that it was during my, hmm… Madness spree?"
"Yes." She giggled. "They found where your sparks were most dense and wanted to take a look. Nothing would have happened, but Thor found your helmet."
"Of course." He muttered, feigning displeasure. "Trust him to be more observant than a brick wall at precisely the wrong moment."
"Then, Mr. Tony Stark wanted to arrest me. Thor wouldn't let him, he thought it was funny."
He pulled an impressed face.
"Keep such news coming and I may even consider stopping loathing my sibling."
"So then Tony asked me out for a coffee instead-"
"He did what? What a move." He changed into Stark with a flash, startling a couple of passer-bys. "You're under arrest, woman. No? Then let me escort you to a coffee house and we can discuss our feelings for one another."
"It wasn't quite like that. Let me finish." She grinned as he turned back, knowing he was merely irritated. "And he proposed that I lead them to you. I said no. I proposed that they ask you nicely as opposed to attempting to kill you, and that's how the idea of dinner came about."
He processed this for a moment, then shrugged and blew out a sigh.
"We're not fond of each other. I'm not fond of him."
"A big surprise." She poked him playfully in the ribs. "It will only take a moment. And it will get the Avengers off your back. Give us a little peace."
"Trust you to think of such a simple solution, Hattie. Mine usually involve daggers and death-threats."
"The exact reason why men need women." She sang, laughing. "Otherwise, they would all just kill each other off, and then what would the world look like?"
"Wise words." He nodded. "It's so intricate. Imagine. Women don't need to throw houses onto hulks or put out fires to be considered heroes. That's our job. We're the propelling force. But then, look. All these superheroes had mothers. Lovers. Some have wives, daughters. The people that are worth risking your life for. And I speak from experience, Hattie-"
He stood and looked at her solemnly.
"-if it wasn't for my mother, I would not know what it means to be delicate. Sensitive. I wouldn't know the need for poetry or beautiful prose. I would have succumbed to power, greed and violence faster than ever before. I mean, look. Imagine Thor without his stupid big heart, which was encouraged and nurtured in him by our mother. He'd be a killing machine. He definitely wouldn't be an Avenger right now."
She nodded, but he hadn't finished.
"And you, Hattie? Where would I be without you?" He smiled, looking away. "I need not say, for we both know the answer to that. More of a wreck than I am at the minute-"
He paused. They had walked past a french restaurant, and a sweet melody flooded out of the refined windows and from under the doors. She recognised it as Under the Sky in Paris.
Hattie felt his hand tighten on hers as he froze and paled. She furrowed her brows.
"What is it?" She whispered, after a few beats. "Are you alright?"
His eyes were glazed over and his mouth was working silently, as though mouthing the lyrics, although there were none. After a moment, he bowed his head and broke free from whatever spell he had been placed under.
"It's strange to feel this."
He furled his hand into the material of his shirt, just above his heart.
"I wasn't ready for it. I forgot what this kind of music tastes like - my senses were overwhelmed for a moment."
Even so, they stayed there for a very long time, standing with their eyes closed, savouring the music.
"Come, Hattie. Let us move on in lest my heart starts to bleed more than it does already."
They spent the rest of the day in town, then stumbled home, exhausted, slumping on the couches.
Loki found the remote rather interesting and pressed a few buttons until the television turned on. Seeing Hattie was tired, he turned it off with equal haste, for he knew she didn't like chaos as he did.
They needn't say a word to another. It was as though they had gotten to know one another's thoughts without any special ability to do so bestowed upon them.
After a few minutes, it got dark and the lights were put on. Henrietta's eyelids began to droop and she leaned into the couch with a sigh.
Loki couldn't keep his eyes off her. He took in every detail of the woman before him, getting to know each one, savouring each one with sincerity. For the first time in heavens knew how long, he gave the Allfather the benefit of the doubt. He almost thanked him for providing him with such an opportunity of… Was this happiness? Was this what he had been missing for most of his life, looking for it in vast caverns of his own foolish character and satiation from the possession of power?
It was only when the peace was broken by Loki the cat padding into the room, Loki stirred. He rose then stooped, outstretching his finger to him hesitantly.
"I suppose I have amendments to make with you, feline." He murmured, although his finger jumped when the cat approached him. "I gave you quite a fright some time ago. Forgive me."
The cat looked up at him with wide eyes, and seeing nothing but sincerity and humility in them, he twitched his tail and allowed his nose to be delicately booped.
Loki gave a wan smile, although still not a whole one. He stroked the fur behind its ears gently, then stood and sighed. He looked at his hands in the dim light. Were they still as black as they had been those years ago?
He furled them into fists and lowered them, glancing at Henrietta. Did he really want to know?
She stirred in her sleep, muttering something, causing a mute chuckle to rustle through his chest and his teeth to flash in an amused grin.
"Henrietta." He whispered. "Sweet, it's time for bed."
She sighed quietly in reply, as though defiant - even in her sleep. He stooped and slid his arms around her, bridal style, picking her up with care, as though she was made of china.
"Bed time."
She leaned her head against his chest, murmuring something. He nodded, carrying her up the stairs.
"Whatever you say, love. You managed to prove me wrong these past couple of days a lot more than I would like to admit." He gave a low chuckle. "I still like to think that I'm always right, though."
Loki pushed the door to her bedroom open with his shoulder, then placed her gently on the bed. He eased her shoes off her feet, tucked them under the covers, then smoothed the duvet down over her form, up to her chin.
"I suppose the night is cold today. Well, good night. Sleep well, darling."
He was about to turn away when she stirred and caught his finger.
"Don't go." She muttered, still half-asleep. "Don't leave. Stay."
He eased himself onto the bed so he was within the reach of her hand, although still far enough for her to be at ease.
"Very well."
Loki took her hand and they lay there for a moment, listening to each other breathe. After a moment, he sighed.
"You know, there was a song that my mother used to sing, before she left us to rest for the night." He murmured, even though he knew she could no longer hear him. "It stayed in my memory until today. I was quite fond of it, although I haven't heard it for a long, long time."
He sank deep into thought, then began to sing, softly, driven by the voice his mother left within him, a voice he kept in his memory like a desperate man keeps a candle burning to its last flicker.
A small soul came, inside a boat
Propelled softly by a breeze
Of hope and dreaming, set afloat
By simple warmth gathered with ease.
It looked back at dark land it passed
And felt a spike of bitter cold
But until the boat arrives at last
It had another place to go.
It could furl the gentle sails up high
And ask the wind to guide its way
Avoid the raven's bitter cry
Until dark night turned into day.
Loki had to grasp Henrietta's hand with both of his as the song drew to a finish, his voice overwhelmed by memory. Memory of hope and light, when days nor lands nor hearts were cold, when the worst thing that could have happened was missing supper for pouring a bucket of water over his brother as he opened the door.
He would have never thought that he would grow to become this. A being staining the covers with his hands beside the woman who took his heart, with the blood of the innocent on his conscience and the awareness of the fact that things could have been different, should he have sought what truly mattered earlier on in life.
