A Very Unlikely Tale // Loki

Chapter 20

Her eyes widen, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, "Of course not!"

Great.

She helps me change out of the clothes Loki gave to me and draws a bath, filling it with warm water and something that smells like roses.  After she's satisfied she helps me into the lovely dress she's chosen and ties my hair back in a neat and simple style.  I thank her and exit the room, pausing at the door.

"Ida, whenever you'd like a day or two off, let me know.  You work so hard and you're here so often.  I want you to be able to enjoy yourself." I smile at the girl, who is stunned by the offer.

"T-Thank you, Flora." She curtsies smiles back at me timidly, "Would tomorrow be acceptable? It is my mother's birthday and I-"

"Of course, Ida.  Enjoy yourself." I say encouragingly.

She smiles once again and I step out into the hall, knocking on Loki's door to let him know I'm ready. 

"About time." He says as he opens the door, "Girls take so long to get ready."

I roll my eyes, "We also bathe regularly."

"As I've told you before, dear Flower, my cleanliness is perfectly adequate." He retorts.

I laugh and ask him where he wants to go.

"Well, I'm practically starving.  Let's go to breakfast." Loki says smartly.

"Oh yeah. Breakfast." I had completely forgotten that food was a thing that existed.

My stomach rumbles.

I hear the man beside me laugh.  He extends his arm, "Shall we, Lady Flora?"

I wrap my arm around his, "Sure, Sunshine.  Whatever you say."

We make our way arm-in-arm to the throne room.  The walk itself was pretty uneventful.  I tried to make Loki skip with me 'Wizard of Oz' style, and he only resulted in making the all too familiar facial expression where he's suppressing a laugh and is glaring at me at the same time.  You know, the constipated looking one. 

We end up picking a topic to debate and are arguing at the proper pronunciation of 'pecan' as we enter through the large golden doors.

"Ugh. Loki you disgust me. It's pronounced 'PEE-CAN.'" I say seriously.

"No, Flower.  It is pronounced 'Peh-Cahn.'" He argues back.

Odin eyes us, an amused expression on his face.

Thor, who I'm not even sure knows what a pecan is, says, "I agree with the Lady Flora."

Hogun nods in agreement.

I acknowledge the warriors and Sif with a smile. 

"I side with Loki." Fandral chimes in, patting a seat beside him for Loki to take.

I sit across from the two, "You're both deranged then." I say jokingly.

"Perhaps you are both wrong." I hear Volstagg say to my right, "Perhaps it should be 'Pee-Cahn."

Sif laughs from my left, "'Peh-Can.' Perhaps?"

We all laugh and continue mock-arguing until the food is brought,  Loki and I continue the argument by kicking each other under the table and random intervals.

"How was your night, Loki." Odom inquires.

"I slept very w- OW!" Loki yelps as he receives a well placed kick to the shin.

Odin raises an eyebrow and I can not help but laugh, "I apologize, your Majesty, I couldn't help myself."

Thor laughs along, "Loki started it, Father."

Loki rolls his eyes and glares at me sarcastically, "Why are you so childish, Flower?"

Odin turns to look at me, "Flower?"

I grin at him, "You should hear my nickname for Loki."

Loki interjects before I can say anymore, "I call her Flower because that's what her name means in another language.  Her name for me is nothing but a demeaning insult."

I fight the impulse to stick out my tongue, "Not at all, Loki!" I widen my eyes in an attempt to look innocent in all of this, "I call you Sunshine because you brighten up my day!"

There is boisterous laughter from the table and Fandral nearly chokes on his drink. Odin chuckles along, surprising me a little.

Thor claps Loki on the shoulder, nearly making him buckle under the force, "I shall have to remember that term of endearment, brother."

Loki glares at me, "You are in so much trouble, Flower."

I smirk, "If you would rather I stick to translations I would be happy to oblige."

He eyes me warily, "What exactly do you mean?"

I grin so widely it feels as though my mouth may get stuck that way, "Well, how about I make a list?" I begin to count on my fingers, "In Finnish, your name means 'log,' or 'seagull' if you add an extra 'k,' in Icelandic, it means 'valve,' in Basque, 'binder,' in Polish, 'curls,'..." I go on, listing as many translations as I can, earning a chuckle or two here and there, "...but my favorite, dear Loki, is what your name means in Latvian."

He sighs, "Do tell."

"In Latvian, 'loki' means 'spring onions.'"

My statement is met with uproarious laughter.

Loki arches an eyebrow and stares at me until he has to blink, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

"...I do believe I prefer Sunshine, Flower."