Cleave | Loki x Reader

• XIV •

A root jutted out from the ground ahead of her, unnoticed. I barely had time to warn her before she caught her foot on it, tumbling forwards with a startled gasp.
I lunged, reaching out for her, but she was already picking herself up. Her hands scraped and smudged with dirt, but instead of crying, she scowled down at them.

'I had it,' she muttered, dusting herself off with all the pride of a warrior denied their victory.

I swallowed a laugh. A terrible realisation hitting me square in the face. She reminds me of... me?

Still I laughed. 'I'm sure you did, lítið.'
She glared up at me, bottom lip jutting out. 'I'm not small. You are!'

Yes I was, once - to someone, a little snowflake even.

I crouched in front of her, my expression softening as I tamed her wild hair into a loose bun.
'You are,' I said gently, brushing the dirt from her cheek. 'But that doesn't mean you're not fierce.'

Her brows knitted together then. 'What's fierce?'

I tapped her nose. 'Strong. Brave.'

The scowl wavered, then vanished altogether. 'Like you?' she asked innocently while her tiny arms rose up only to jut them down again in a vigorous, tiny move, mimicking me with my sword and shield in hand-driving it down in my opponent's leg... Yup, she saw that. But that's not the part that upset me.

I don't know why the words had hit me the way they did, but my throat tightened. I glanced away for a moment, steadying myself.
I wanted to say, No, not like me. Like her.
But she has only ever known me and Ilsa, my chambermaid and now her nursemaid.

'Randi, I am who I am only because of your mama,' I said as I picked her back up again, examining her hands.

At the mention of her, the girl's little brows knitted together once more. 'My mama was a shield maiden like you?'

I hesitated, shifting her in my arms. My chest caved in uncomfortably, and I feared I might drop her if I wouldn't keep myself in check. Now.
So, deeply, I inhaled.

'Yes and no,' I murmured, now sitting on the edge of a stone bench with her nestled in my lap. 'Your mama was the bravest woman I ever knew. She could run faster than Hófvarpnir, shoot an arrow straighter than any man, and her laughter flowed like the river after a spring thaw.'
I smiled, though the memories ached like an old wound. 'She is so proud of you.'

Randi's small fingers traced the pattern of my helmet absentmindedly. 'Where is she?'

The question made my lungs seize. 'She is on Midgard,' I said. 'With your father, the brave warrior, remember? Fighting a war for the realms.'

Randi's little face scrunched in confusion. 'But you said my father can't come here. And I can't go there.'

I nodded slowly. 'That is true.'

She thought for a long moment, then asked, 'Then how will I see her?'

I swallowed hard, forcing a gentle smile. 'You won't. Not in this life, little one.'

The words were careful. For me more than for her.
'I never truly met my human father either, you know. We are alike in that, lítið, you and me.' I put my forehead to hers, smiling faintly.
'But they are always with you. She is. In your heart, in your blood. In the way you giggle and in the twinkle of your adorable doe eyes.'

I nudged my nose with hers, winking once. Maybe I shoudn't have - turn this conversation into a lighthearted one, I mean. But that's exactly what I did.

She was quiet for a while, resting her head against my shoulder. Then, with the certainty only a child could possess, she whispered, 'I'll wait for her until that next life.'