inlove!loki x magicnoble!reader
Part 2
The truth was that Loki knew far more about Jennie Aldwyn than he probably should.
Not because he followed her.
Thor claimed he did. Repeatedly.
But Loki preferred to think of it as observation.
After eighteen years of friendship, certain things became impossible not to notice.
He knew exactly which paths she preferred through the palace gardens. The ones lined with wildflowers instead of marble statues.
He knew which windows she sat beside when she painted, chasing the best sunlight through the palace as the day passed.
He knew she absentmindedly hummed while mixing colors.
He knew she forgot meals whenever she became absorbed in a painting.
And he knew she talked to flowers.
Actual conversations.
As though they might answer.
The first time he'd overheard it, he had nearly laughed.
Now he simply accepted it as one of the many inexplicable things that made her Jennie.
Nothing surprised him anymore.
Well.
Almost nothing.
The singing had surprised him.
The memory still lived vividly in his mind.
They had been fifteen.
Loki had gone looking for her after she'd vanished from a palace celebration. It wasn't unusual. Jennie had a habit of slipping away whenever gatherings became too crowded.
Thor had been distracting half the room with some outrageous story.
Nobody else had even noticed she was gone.
Loki had.
Of course he had.
He followed one of the woodland paths behind the palace, expecting to find her painting beside the stream she liked so much.
Instead, he heard music.
Not instruments.
A voice.
Soft and clear.
The sound drifted through the trees like sunlight filtering through leaves.
Loki stopped walking.
For a moment he simply listened.
The singer couldn't see him.
Didn't know he was there.
There was something different about that realization.
Something intimate.
The voice wasn't polished or practiced.
It wasn't meant for an audience.
It was simply happiness.
Pure and effortless.
He moved quietly through the trees until he found the source.
Jennie stood barefoot beside the stream.
Her shoes sat forgotten several feet away.
Sunlight spilled through the branches above her, painting golden patterns across her dress and hair.
She sang as she wandered along the water's edge, completely unaware she had an audience.
Loki should have announced himself.
He knew that.
Instead he remained where he was.
Listening.
The moment felt fragile somehow.
Like something beautiful that might vanish if disturbed.
So he stayed hidden.
And listened until the song ended.
Afterward, he returned to the palace without saying a word.
He never told her he'd been there.
Years later, he still hadn't.
It became his secret.
Not hers.
His.
And once he'd discovered it, he began noticing it everywhere.
Sometimes he heard her singing from an open balcony while she painted.
Sometimes in the gardens.
Sometimes deep in the forests beyond the city.
Every single time, he stopped to listen.
Every single time.
Unfortunately, Thor eventually noticed.
Thor noticed everything except subtlety.
Loki had been standing in a palace corridor one afternoon, perfectly still, when Thor appeared carrying enough food for three people.
"What are we doing?"
Loki glanced at him.
"We?"
"Standing here."
"We are not standing here."
Thor looked down the corridor.
Then toward the open courtyard beyond.
A familiar voice floated through the air.
Singing.
Thor's grin widened immediately.
"Oh."
Loki groaned.
"Oh no."
"Was that Jennie?"
"No."
"It was."
"No."
"You were listening."
"I was walking."
Thor nearly choked laughing.
"You stopped walking."
"Thor."
"You stopped walking to listen to her sing."
"Thor."
Thor laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall.
Loki considered pushing him into the nearest fountain.
The idea remained tempting.
Very tempting.
Jennie never learned about any of it.
At least not then.
There were plenty of things she didn't notice.
Like the way people naturally gravitated toward her.
Or how every child in Asgard seemed determined to find her.
Or the fact that mothers trusted her almost instantly.
Loki had seen it happen countless times.
A woman carrying a baby would pass through the market.
Jennie would smile.
The baby would smile back.
And somehow, within moments, she would be holding the child while talking happily with the mother as though they'd known one another for years.
It happened so often it had become almost predictable.
The strange thing was that babies adored her.
Not tolerated.
Not liked.
Adored.
Loki watched it constantly.
One afternoon in the palace gardens, a baby with a determined grip had wrapped both hands into Jennie's hair and refused to let go.
Jennie sat in the grass laughing while the child's exhausted mother apologized repeatedly.
"It's quite all right," Jennie assured her.
The baby giggled.
Then tugged harder.
Loki stood nearby with his arms crossed.
Watching.
The mother laughed.
"I think she's chosen you."
Jennie beamed.
"I would be honored."
The baby squealed happily.
Loki felt something dangerous happen inside his chest.
Because she looked so completely herself in moments like these.
No expectations.
No responsibilities.
No noble titles.
Just joy.
Pure and uncomplicated.
The sort of joy that made everyone around her smile too.
Even him.
Though he would never admit it.
What fascinated him most, however, was something else.
The babies always calmed around her.
Always.
The crying ones stopped crying.
The shy ones reached for her.
The frightened ones settled instantly against her shoulder.
Animals trusted her.
Children trusted her.
Birds landed near her without fear.
Flowers seemed brighter wherever she lingered.
And every now and then, Loki caught glimpses of things he couldn't explain.
A flicker of golden light.
A flower blooming out of season.
A warmth gathering in the air around her.
Small things.
Impossible things.
Enough to make him wonder.
Never enough to make him ask.
Because whatever secret Jennie carried belonged to her.
And if she ever decided to tell him, he would listen.
If she never did, he would stay anyway.
The powers were not why he watched her.
Not why he listened for her voice.
Not why he knew her favorite places and her favorite flowers and exactly how many paint stains covered her hands on any given day.
Those things were simply pieces of her.
Beautiful pieces.
But they were not the reason.
The reason was much simpler.
She was Jennie.
The girl with paint on her fingers.
Leaves tangled in her hair.
A song always waiting on her lips.
And a baby in her arms whenever she could manage it.
To everyone else, she might have seemed ordinary.
To Loki, she felt like magic.
