Cleave | Loki x Reader

• X •

Well, actually, I came to collect. You, for that matter. I have something planned for us, she revealed.

Wha- Then I was impudently interrupted.

Get dressed and meet me in the halls. I'll explain everything then.

Then, the disconnect.
So, I did as I was told - rather peculiar of me, I'm aware - and threw on my robes.

There she stood, in the grand halls of Asgard Palace's left wing, right outside my chambers, and in all her glory.
Waiting. For me.
The wicked smile I had conjured up in my mind mere moments earlier was now indeed gracing her lips.

She was dressed in a simple off-shoulder dress of shining, sparkling onyx, complemented by a violet leather corset which was embellished with accents of silver that stood in perfect harmony with her brilliant lock of silver hair.
The instant my eyes had landed on that flash of silver, I found myself captivated by the mesmerizing mop of hair. The icy strand wound itself around her head in an intricate crescent, its arrowhead delicately attached to her temple. The Flétta af Hugrekki - the Light Elves' Braid of Courage.

As though conjured up, suddenly a nine-year-old Y/n stood before my mind's eye. In her little kyrtill, and brimming with all that wit and charisma.
And yet she still had resorted to that small braid to grant her the courage she thought she needed on her first day here in Asgard.
I remember her as a stranger in an even stranger land; a land she was destined to become the most important person of.
Suddenly, I understood why she must have believed herself in desperate need of courage...
Thinking back now, I only admire that little girl the more.

I remember telling her how the braid had suited her.

I remember her mouth to twitch into that sort-of grin she would still sport on occasions these days.

I remember the thought striking me that, were this prophesied girl to one day decide in my favour, I would be far from displeased.

Perhaps on that day those three hundred years back, I had already fallen. Perhaps not. All that which is certain is that, on this day, she already had me wrapped tightly around whichever finger she would've offered me.

What ever could be the reason for that need of courage on a day as ordinary as today? The question lingered in my mind as I returned to the present.

Her dress fell gracefully, ending just above her knees. However, just one of her arms was covered by a sleeve.
My gaze was immediately drawn to the not-so-bare skin of her other arm, as it was adorned with intricate black markings.
Runes, I came to realise.

The first, Dagaz, symbolises the dawn of a new day; growth; an awakening. Underneath, Algiz, a rune of protection; a shield. Then Jera, for peace and hardship going hand in hand. The remaining three were Laguz, Mannaz, and Nauthiz - chaos, humanity, need.
Those runes, of course, hold a myriad of meanings. What I read off of Y/n's glowing skin was merely my interpretation of... of her.

At long last, the sweet melody of her voice graced my ears.
'Don't you want to find out what it is you came out here for in the middle of the night?'

Embarrassingly enough, I must have stared at her for quite a while already, and it certainly did not help that on the first attempt I made at giving her an answer, I managed to choke on my own tongue.
Oh, trust my words when I say that I'd much rather have choked on hers.

'Fine, fine, I'll tell you,' she relented with that playful little smirk rising. 'Better hold your tongue. Before you suffocate from being ripped from your precious sleep. Wouldn't want that on my hands.'