Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

19. Memories

Daphne's still glued to the door.
"Now come, I can tell you are hungry." She hears the stove being turned on and the clattering of pans. Not much later, the sizzling starts and an irresistible smell fills the house. She really is hungry. She slowly lets go of the door and takes small, careful steps to the kitchen. It's almost a domestic looking scene. If not for the leather clothed man scrambling some eggs on the stove. He sticks out like a sore thumb next to all the pastels of the interior design.

She moves to the breakfast table and sits down slowly. She finally musters up the courage to talk again.
"What's your name?" He glances back at her from the stove.
"You really don't remember me, do you?"
"Should I?"
"Ah, you were young." He flips the bacon skillfully. "Still are." She figures he won't give her his name. She'd have to remember him somehow.
"Is this your house now?" He chuckles.
"It is not. I was lucky to find the owners are on holiday." She doesn't know what to ask next so she simply doesn't say anything. Instead she looks at her hands.

Not much later the driver puts down a plate in front of her. Eggs, bacon and toast. He sits down at the round table, opposite her.
"Aren't you gonna eat?" she asks.
"I am not hungry."
"Then how do I know you didn't put anything shady in this food?" She pushes the plate towards him and he laughs.
"I did not drug you, if that's what you think. Potions are below me."

He takes her cutlery and gently takes a bite out of everything he prepared for her before pushing the plate back to her.
"Well, I certainly didn't have control over what happened to me in the car, so you did something."
"I put a sleeping spell on you, nothing much." She hesitantly takes a bite out of the toast.
"A spell?"
"You fought it well. Took you longer to succumb than some Asgardians I placed it on." She stops in her tracks, her mouth open as she was about to take a bite of bacon. Her eyes lock with his and she moves to sit up straight, bringing the fork down.
"Asgardians... As in..."
"Yes." There's a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. 

Daphne lets go of the cutlery and they clatter on the plate. She's frozen in place as her mind is bringing the puzzle pieces together. Magic, Asgardians... His black hair and blue eyes. His outfit. Her mind flashes back to the conversation they had in the car about thunder.

"It reminds me of my family."

"Loki," she whispers.
"Ah, I knew you'd remember me." He smiles wide and leans forward on the table. "Though, I do not think you got my name from the right memory."
"You killed thousands in the New York attack," she stutters.
"Wrong memory." He sighs and leans back. "Just so you know, I was not myself when I did that. I was being controlled by someone else."
"You should be in prison."
"You should be dead." She presses her lips on top of each other. He rolls his eyes. "Just eat the food, before it gets cold."
"I'm not hungry anymore."
"You cannot lie to me, Daphne." The corner of his mouth curls up and his eyes shimmer. "I can tell when you lie." He pats the table. "Now, eat."

She reluctantly finishes her plate as he watches her. It's awkward, but she doesn't say a thing. He cooks well for someone who always has his food made for him, but she's not going to tell him that. She gets up and grabs the plate. She walks to the sink and runs hot water. He chuckles. "You do not have to clean that, you know?"
"Anything to not have to look at you." Suddenly, he's behind her. When did he get up from his chair?
"You may not have to apologize to me, but I do think some gratitude would suit you well." She breathes and scrubs the plate, not turning around to look at him.
"You want me to thank you for making me breakfast after kidnapping me?" Two can play the sass game. She's not strong enough to take him on physically and he may have about 1500 years on her, but she's not going to go down without a fight. He laughs softly.
"If only you would remember."
"Remember what?!" Her head shoots around to look at him and he raises an eyebrow at her.
"It wouldn't be any fun if I just told you." He circles around her to her other side, cocking his head. "And you wouldn't believe me anyways." He squeezes her arm gently and pulls her away from the sink. She doesn't fight him; she knows she's not strong enough. "Let's go for a walk."