A Very Unlikely Tale // Loki

Chapter 4

He scoffs back, "No, but I wouldn't expect such a feat from a Midgardian."

I furrow my brow, "You literally just saw me light a bunch of candles with my fingertip."

"You were blocking my view. I assumed you had matches." He retorts.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming."

"No."

"...Nevermind, then."

I pick a cherry and begin nibbling on it, "Help yourself if you want anything."

"Why would I trust you?"

I fight the instinct to roll my eyes again, "You can't be serious." Yet one look at the lanky god tells me he is completely serious. "Oh my god. They're not poisoned.  Your dad would slaughter me if I did anything to you."

"That man is not my father." He snarls, fixing me once again with a cold glare.

I raise my eyebrows, now equally confused and alarmed, "Woah, okay. Sorry." 

I pop another cherry in my mouth and try to change the subject, "Seriously, eat.  You look like you're gonna fall over."  I gesture dramatically to the fruit.  When he doesn't move, I sigh and plop down on the dark green sofa, grabbing my book in the process. 

I begin to read silently, shutting out the world and Loki in the process.

"There were once a man and woman who had long in vain wished for a child.  At length it seemed that God was about to grant their desire..."

I look up slightly when I hear shuffling, and spy Loki peering at an apple, finally taking a bite.  I smile smugly and look back down.

"Rapunzel had magnificent long hair, fine as spun gold, and when she heard the voice of the enchantress she unfastened her braided tresses, wound them round one of the hooks of the window above, and let the hair fall twenty metres down, whereupon the enchantress climbed up by it."

"What is it you're reading, mortal."

I look up, forehead wrinkling in the process. I'm so gonna get wrinkles.  "Grimm's Fairytales.  Rapunzel.  My name is Flora."

Mortal?

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let d-"

"As far as I'm concerned mortals shouldn't even have names.  Their lives are far too fleeting for names to even matter." He takes another bite of his apple, tearing away at the soft fruit with a crunch.

I slam my book shut.  It's becoming increasingly obvious that I'm not going to get much reading done.

"It really isn't the length of a life, it's what one does with the time they have." I eye him squarely, "As far as I'm concerned, people who try to take over a planet while they're having a temper tantrum should be locked in a cell until they learn a little self control and gain a respect and appreciation for life.  No matter how small of a life it may seem."

"Perhaps," he says quietly, but stares at me angrily, "but you have no idea what circumstances prompted my attack on your pathetic realm.  You couldn't possibly understand, mortal.  A life as short as yours. You will be gone, like a breath of wind, before I even gain a silver hair.  I shall not remember you."

I stare at him, not backing down from his glare. He certainly has a way with words, but was he even there for the conversation I had with Odin?  How could he possibly not know?

"Loki, did you hear even a word of the conversation I had with your fa- um, Odin?"

"The hood kept me from sound as well as sight.  It is a devise for relative isolation, even when one isn't in a cell." He informs me as he sits down in the chair furthest from me, his voice still thick from the altercation.

"Oooooh. So you don't know then." I smile mysteriously. This should be fun.

"Know what, mortal?" He raises a dark eyebrow.

"No no. I don't see why I have to tell you my secret when you refuse to even learn my name." I stretch out my legs, propping them up on the small ottoman. My smile turns smug.

"What is it I do not know, you mewling quim? I am not one to trifle with!" He is annoyed now, and that only makes me smile wider.

"Ah, but this is fun! I know something you don't, and watching that knowledge eat away at you is incredibly amusing." I reach for a pear and take a bite, not breaking eye contact. I reach for the book and open it, pretending to read.

"Tell me, you filthy peasant. Or I shall make you regret your tiny little existence." He threatens, and I ignore him, scanning the pages of my book intently. Hopefully he doesn't realize that it's upside down.

"Do not ignore me, Flora."

I flick my eyes away from the page and stick out my tongue, "I win!"

He is entirely unamused.

"What is this secret you have refused to tell me, girl?"

"Who?" I ask

"Flora." He admits

I smile, "Now you're getting the hang of it." I close my book once again, setting it down on the arm of the sofa. "How old do you think I am, Loki?"

He looks confused but answers anyway, "By Midgardian standards, I should guess you to be in your early twenties. A mere infant compared to myself."

I nodded thoughtfully, "Close, but no cigar."

"I do not understand your expression."

"Never mind," I wave a hand dismissively, "I'm 379 years old, Loki. I was born in the year 1638."

His eyes widen visibly, "I do not understand."

I sigh. Yeah bud, I don't get it either. I stare out the window, it's nearly dark now. "I was 18 in the year 1656 and Odin crash landed on earth and I helped him out and he gave me an apple and now my eyes are green and I can do stuff and I can't die." I finish. I've told this story a few times already and I'm obviously very good at paraphrasing.

"You have lived 379 years on Midgard?"

I nod.

He laughs like it's the funniest thing he's heard in his life.

"The hell is so funny, asshole?"

"I did not believe Odin could be so cruel as to make an immortal suffer though seeing all they love pass on." he wipes at an imaginary tear. "It's hilarious really."

I scoff, "You're sick in the head, buddy."

He smiles maniacally at me, "I know."

Well damn.