Collection of One-Shots

》always

The day was as normal as it could possibly be with the God of Mischief as your unruly, spiteful, and yet kind, and tender house guest. He had, quite literally, fell out of the sky into the forest one night, that same night you had taken one of your horses to ride the trails near your house at night, which is how you discovered him. Barefooted with tattered breeches and a tunic stained with dirt and blood. Instantly you recognized him as the man that they had shown brief glimpses of during the invasion of New Work, and not having the heart to leave him when he could barely stand you took him back to your own modest farm house.

Your animals seemed to trust him, especially the cats who normally loathed any other person except for your brother and mother. So against better judgment, you let him stay, without reporting it to the authorities. For three months he had been there with you, and as recompense he helped you with the six horse you had, each had been saved from a previous abusive owner, Loki though reluctant at first, grew to enjoy working with the horses, and despite the curses he threw at your two dogs, soon he could not resist them either and with the right amount of begging and puppy-dog eyes he gave in whether it be playing catch in the open pasture or tugging with the toys they brought him in the house. Whenever he did such you couldn't help but smile, after the initial two or so weeks which presented numerous rough patches and apologies you realized that he was good company, it didn't seem as lonely at the old farm house, and it dawned on you that when he left, and undoubtedly he would after he regained his magic, you would miss him, dearly.

He had surprised you that evening by volunteering to make dinner himself, at first you protested, afraid that the Prince would burn down your house in an attempt to do so, but he didn't. You sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, watching attentively as he flipped over four grilled cheese sandwiches, a food he knew to be your favorite and one that he liked as well. Water still dripped from his hair, as today had been rather messy work, cleaning out the different stalls and replacing the straw mat with fresh for the horses, especially the stall that now contained a mother and two colts that were naught even two weeks old.

You know his back is littered with scars, once he told you of them, but it seemed like it had been such a long time ago, and he was more than reluctant to say a word about them. You didn't know much, but what he had told you shattered your heart for the god, but now as he stood in your kitchen, the scars were still very much prominent against his pale skin, but so were the muscles beneath, with each movement they rippled and the skin across them grew taut. You shake your head and push wet hair from your face as he slides a plated and sliced sandwich across the bar to you, and as usual he sits at your side silently eating and occasionally breaking off a small piece of crust to feed to the two overgrown boxer puppies that look up at him with sad brown eyes.

You chuckle as he nearly gives them a whole half of sandwich and shoos them away, and they happily comply after that. Together you wash the dishes, and when the kitchen is clean once more you both head to the sofa for the two hours before you usually head off to bed. The news is on in the background as you have a word document open, working on the next chapter of your own novel and Loki read, he had already read the Harry Potter books, and Game of Thrones, and now he worked his way through the Lord of Rings, turning page after page.

When the clock strikes ten you stand and stretch, patting Loki on the shoulder before heading up the stairs to your room, leaving the ex-god to read for as long as his heart desires. That night Loki falls asleep on the couch, one of your three cats curling up on his chest, he sleeps soundly, but he doesn't dream, he refuses to dream, though in his mind thoughts of you are present, as of late they are always present, but it is not a dream, because when he does dream it is nightmares that plague him. You toss, unable to find a position that makes it easy to fall asleep but when you do it seems to be a peaceful slumber that takes you until you hear your name being shouted.