#intriuged

“Send for the healers,” she commanded them, slightly out of breath. “And tell them that their services are urgently needed.”

“My Queen,” one guard began, looking between her and the body. “Have you been injured?”

Her tone never wavered beyond that of a regal, just queen. “It is not me who needs help, it is this child. Go, now!”

One guard did as informed while the other two began to accompany her into the Asgardian Palace. Their offers to carry the child, a small girl, were rejected several times. The halls of the castle echoed with the sound of urgent footfalls on the marble floors, some of the guards and maids curiously looking at the reserved commotion as it passed them by. Hushed words were exchanged at the sight of an unconscious mortal in the palace.

This was how I first ended up in Asgard; a defenceless child on the brink of death, carried in the arms of a loving queen. Nifty, huh?

As Frigga made her way towards to Healers’ Wing that was already being prepped for the arrival of some mysterious child in need, word from Heimdall that the Queen had brought a mortal into Asgard quickly found its way to King Odin in his throne room. Frigga knew that he was informed when she arrived at her destination to find the entrance guarded by two of the King’s personal guards.

“I am sorry, my Queen,” one of them said robotically. “But the Allfather has ordered for us to bring you to the throne room, along with the Midgardian. 

“This child needs help,” she replied, holding on to whatever patience she had left. “I am your queen and you will stand aside.”

Neither of them flinched. “They are the King’s orders that you be brought before him.”

“Take me if you so insist, but the girl needs to be seen to.”

“Not until you have spoken with the King.”

Finally, Frigga’s patience snapped. “She will die if not tended to.”

Neither of them spoke a word, instead giving her blank stares from beneath their helms. Seeing that there was no way she would be able to get them to let her through, she allowed them to escort her to the throne room where her husband waited for her arrival.

The walk was a rushed one, mostly because of Frigga’s insistence. As the minutes ticked by, she grew more and more concerned for the small being lying limp in her arms, breathing shallow and shaky. She peered down at her occasionally, the girl’s face hidden as it was nestled into her dress. Although the soldiers were brimming with curiosity, none of them dared to question why their queen had come back from Midgard with one of the inhabitants, an injured one, at that.

The huge doors to the even larger throne room were pushed open, revealing the mostly vacant Valaskjalf. A lone figure resided at the end of the room, sitting proudly upon the golden throne. Odin remained seated with his spear, Gungnir, in hand as his wife was led forward, clutching the little girl’s body tighter to her chest. Her dresses trailed along the stainless floors, her own journey to the steps reflected back up at her. Upon arrival at the lower steps, the guards bowed before stepping aside, leaving Frigga to stand before her husband.

Odin silently regarded her for a moment before he spoke in a booming voice. “My wife, you are aware of the rules and restrictions that are upheld in relation to outsiders being brought through the Bifröst, are you not?”

What kept Frigga calm was that his tone was not condescending or negative, but that of a King who has to do what was expected of him.

“I am aware, Odin,” she replied, remaining polite but ignoring all formalities due to the urgency of the situation. “As you know I am, but such an urgent situation required immediate action to be taken. She would have died if left on Midgard and she will still die here if we do not help her.”

Odin leaned forward in his throne, his steely gaze landing on the girl in his wife’s arms. “And why would you insist on bringing a lowly Midgardian back with you to Asgard? What significance is she to you?”

“None, my King,” Frigga replied, both her gaze and stance confident. “But I would not leave behind a defenceless child to perish alone when she could be saved.”

A look of recognition flashed over Odin’s features for a fraction of a second before it just as quickly disappeared. That split second of silent interaction spoke more words than any of those around them could comprehend.

Odin didn’t get a chance to respond, as the sound of the doors bursting open interrupted the conversation. Both the King and Queen’s attention was drawn to the end of the hall as Thor and Loki made their way towards them, the latter walking slightly behind the former.

“Mother!” Thor called her in delight. “We had heard of your return!”

“My sons,” Frigga greeted them, somewhat despondently as they got closer.

Confusion covered the two brothers’ faces as they spotted the limp form in their mother’s arms.

Loki’s brows furrowed at the sight of blood on her dress. “Mother, are you alright? Have you been hurt?”

She shook her head, soothing his worries somewhat. “I am well, Loki. It is not my blood.”

“What have you brought with you?” Thor asked inquisitively once he had confirmed that she was unhurt and peered at the child. “Is it a slave? Or a runaway? Is it alive?”

“She may not be for much longer if she doesn’t get the help she needs.” Frigga turned her attention back to Odin, who had been silently observing the exchange. “Please, Odin.”

“Tell me what happened,” he answered and remained seated. “Tell me where you found her.”

There was a brief pause before Frigga began her tale, detailing how during her trip to Midgard, she had taken to walking around the cities in the early hours of the morning when they were mostly deserted, disguised as a mortal woman. She enjoyed the peace and quiet, but the tranquility of the city was disrupted when she spotted something unusual behind a dumpster in a filthy alleyway. What had compelled the queen to investigate what she saw in that alleyway she wasn’t sure, but her feet had brought her closer to have a look before she could contemplate why. It was there that she discovered the frail and broken body of the Midgardian girl, shivering uncontrollably in both pain and the cold. Frigga asked the child if she could hear her as she took in the bruises on her face. Glistening eyes met her gaze before her lids shut again, slipping into unconsciousness. Already involved in this child’s affairs and unwilling to leave her there to die in the cold, Frigga took it upon herself to save this young life, even if it meant questioning her own King. After her owl healing abilities were not enough, she had no choice but to bring her back to Asgard.

Thor and Loki listening intently, looking between the girl and their mother in amazement.

“And were the medical facilities on earth not suitable for this case?” Odin asked in exasperation. “That is what doctors are for, after all.”

“Coming here with the child was far quicker than finding a hospital and Asgardian healers are the finest in all of the Nine Realms.”

“A Midgardian…” Loki murmured to himself, amazed by the little mortal before him. Having always had an interest Midgard and its people (not to mention all of the realms), he was somewhat pleased with his mother’s rash actions. He had little to no time for mortals, considering they were beneath the Aesir, but he couldn’t help but be fascinated by their simple ways.

“And those healers are reserved for Asgardians alone. She is mortal, therefore she does not belong here. Guards, take her back to Midgard immediately.”

At their king’s command, two guards quickly approached Frigga with the intention of fulfilling his orders, but she held the girl tightly to her chest.

“Odin, I speak to you as both your wife and a mother. If you send this girl back to Midgard, then she will die before anyone can help her. While here, there are healers capable of saving her now. If you send her back, you will have the blood of an innocent child on your hands. Mortal or not, she is but a child.”

There was a long pause as Odin contemplated her words. Their sons remained silent and glanced between the two, wanting to add their own opinions, but knowing it was better to keep their mouths shut. Frigga stared at him, her eyes overwhelmingly intense and intimidating. She was pleading silently and for a moment, it appeared as though her efforts fell upon deaf ears.

This was how Frigga saved my life.

   “You may take the child to be healed,” Odin announced calmly, his expression unreadable. “Once she is well again, she will be returned to Midgard.”

The tense atmosphere in the room instantly melted away. Loki’s eyes grew wide – he hadn’t been expecting such an act of kindness from his father. While he could be a just king when needed, mortals were strictly forbidden in Asgard.

While Thor offered to help Frigga carry the girl, Loki hung back and observed instead. He preferred not to get too involved in the whole situation, while it seemed that his mother already was; she calmly refused Thor’s assistance and carried the child to the healing wing herself. Upon arrival, she was placed on a table and surrounded by Eir and the finest healers Asgard could offer while Loki watched from the corner of the room. Thor approached him whereas Frigga remained by the girl.

“What do you make of this, little brother?” Thor asked, his arms folded across his chest.

Loki merely shrugged. “It would seem that mother has somehow managed to briefly change father’s stubborn opinion on mortals in our realm. I must admit, her argument was impressive.”

“She is only one little mortal.”

“Indeed. I am not overly fond of children, no matter the race.”

“What harm could she possibly do?“

"Very little, I would imagine. She can’t be more than six or seven years old.”

“She is still a babe,” Thor laughed. “She is no threat to us. And once she is fully healed, she will be returned to Midgard.”

Loki let out a snort. “I’m sure that Father cannot wait for that day.”

The tall blonde leaned casually against a nearby pillar with a smirk. “Perhaps you will get to interrogate the child all about her insignificant life before she leaves.”

Loki gave his sibling a wry look. “Why in the name of the Norns would I ask this girl of her life on Earth?” What exactly was he insinuating?

“Loki, Loki, Loki,” the God of Thunder chuckled, shaking his head. “You are always stuck in your books, reading everything there is to know about the Nine Realms and its inhabitants. When you should have been out sparring with Sif and I, you read about other worlds and went to seiðr training with mother. Suddenly a Midgardian appears in our very home and you’re telling me that you have no interest in questioning her at all?”

If Loki said that his brother was full of it, it would be a blatant lie. While he found his ignorant comment about reading and seiðr highly irritating, he had to admit (at least, not out loud) that he was a little bit curious about her world. The words never escaped his mouth though. “You are aware that this child is probably going to wake up traumatised, depending on how she ended up in that state?”

Thor’s response was a shrug. “Still, it’s an opportunity I doubt you would willingly let pass by.” They were silent for a moment, watching the scene before them as it played out. “Mother seems to have taken a shine to the little mortal, hasn’t she?”

Loki rolled his green eyes. “You speak of her as though she is a house pet.”

“I only jest! But you cannot deny that mother seems to be attached already.”

Watching Frigga hold the girl’s hand as healers inspected her injuries, the youngest son of Odin replied. “That attachment will fade presently. Soon enough, she will have to leave this place.”

“Perhaps she will keep her,” Thor pondered aloud.

Loki scoffed. “Father would sooner give up the thrown to the Frost Giants than let a mortal remain in his halls. And I would also imagine that her guardians on Midgard are looking for her.”

“Would you not enjoy a Midgardian pet? They are a weak race in comparison to ourselves.”

“That may be so, but you know how Mother feels about slavery. She would never allow it, nor do I desire it.”

Thor shrugged dismissively and pushed himself away from the pillar he had been leaning against. “I suppose so. Alas, I have more important matters to attend to. I’m already late for my sparring match with Lady Sif. Don’t hover over the mortal too long, brother.”

Loki watched his sibling leave and then turned his eyes back to his mother. Frigga remained next to the platform where the girl lay surrounded by working healers. The child’s vital signs all appeared on floating holograms. Certain healers sieved through them, pinpointing problems that showed up on a body chart.

“… head trauma,” he heard one inform another. “… two broken ribs… bruising and laceration…”

“This Midgardian received a harsh beating,” Eir agreed, her voice a little louder so that Loki could hear. “I am surprised she has clung to life this long.”

“She is a fighter, it would seem,” Frigga said, stroking the small hand with her thumb. “Will she survive?”

“Her chances are high now that she is on Asgard. Had she been brought back to her own planet, she would have perished, no doubt. That being said, I’m unsure as to when she will wake up.”

“Then I will remain her for as long as I can,” the Allmother replied, watching the girl attentively.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you desire, Your Grace.”

It was a short while after this when Loki decided to step forward. “Mother? Would you ask that I remain with you?“ He wasn’t sure whether it was concern or curiosity, but he found himself preferring to stay where he was.

Frigga tore her gaze away from the child and settled it on her own offspring with a smile. "It would please me greatly to have you here by my side, my son.”

He made his way over and took a seat next to her. With her free hand, she took his in her grasp, squeezing gently. He returned her smile with a small grin of his own and squeezed back.

“Where has your brother run off to?” Frigga asked after a moment.

“He left to spar with Lady Sif in the training yards,” Loki replied, gauging her reaction.

She laughed gently. “I should have guessed as much.”

They sat in silence as the healers worked attentively. Loki kept his gaze on the child, getting a real look at her for the first time. She had thick mousy hair, falling down to just past her shoulders, which appeared knotted and frayed in the ends. She was slim — worryingly so — and her top and bottoms were covered in dirt and small dapples of blood here and there. She was wearing a dark blue garment that looked like a short tunic with a hood attached while also being a few sizes too big for her. When his eyes found their way to her little freckled face, he was met with an array of cuts and deep bruises. Two lacerations in particular on her upper lip and right brow were sure to leave scars, even with Asgardian healers on hand. Her expression was blank in her slumber despite the gravity of her injuries – beneath all the bruises and dirt, her face still contained the innocence of a young child.

“What could have done this to her?” Loki asked his mother, overwhelmed with confusion rather than sadness. “She is but a child and a mortal. They are utterly defenceless and inept at this stage in their short lives.”

Frigga shook her head slowly. “I do not know, Loki. I cannot understand it myself. Perhaps when she awakens we will get some answers.”

“Perhaps.” Despite not being ridiculously upset for the mortal, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her when he thought about how harmless she was. What… thing could possibly have the motivation and the malice to strike something as defenceless as she?

He turned to his mother. “You do not know her name?”

“No. Hopefully that is another piece of information she can enlighten us with when she awakens.”

For a moment, Loki pondered what she would be called. Something dull probably, like most other Midgardian names… But her little bruised hands caught his attention and he immediately grimaced. He was the God of Lies and Mischief, the Trickster, the Silvertongue, but such unnecessary violence as this was never in his favour. There were some things that he would never and could never understand. At least the girl had survived her ordeal. He was a Trickster, but not heartless.

“The healers do not know when she will awaken,” he commented. “Do you think she will stay in this state for long?”

The Queen shrugged, a dark look passing over her fair face at the thought. “I can only hope that she will rouse soon, but if time is what she needs to heal, then so be it.”

“She is very… little,” he said absentmindedly.

Frigga nodded her head gently. “So very little and frail indeed. Mortals are so delicate.” She paused briefly to let out a shaky breath. “I fear that she may not survive her ordeal.”

Tearing his gaze away from the girl, Loki looked at his mother. “She is surrounded by the finest healers in all of Asgard, so I imagine that the stakes are already in her favour. Logically, she would have perished in her own realm, but not now. And little does she know, the Allmother sits patiently by her side, guarding her and wishing her a speedy recovery.”

Their gazes met and Frigga smiled at him. Not a grin or a smirk, but a genuine, happy smile. He couldn’t lie; seeing her pleased with him made him feel utterly elated.

“My son,” she murmured. “You are kinder than you give yourself credit for.”

Despite enjoying her affections, he let out a snort and spoke with a voice laced in sarcasm. “Kind? I am the Trickster God, I am not known for my kindness, nor my love of children.”

“What others think of you is irrelevant to me. I am your mother and I know that you have a kind heart, Loki, you just seldom show it.”

He bowed his head gently, feeling a warm sensation in his chest. Something that Frigga could always make him feel — acceptance, joy, a connection with someone else. He couldn’t possibly count all the times that Thor and his friends rebuked and teased him for his choice of combat and seiðr practice when he was but a child. It was the warm embrace of his mother’s arms that had made him feel like he somewhat belonged. When Odin favoured Thor for his brute strength in combat, Frigga was there to encourage Loki’s illusions and teach him the ways of the ancient art of seiðr. And now having lived for over a thousand years knowing that he was not as valued as his brother and that he was not as kind and gentle as she claimed, he still went to her and she still made him feel loved.

He grinned at her. “Well, I know better than to argue with a strong-willed woman; it would be impossible to change your mind.”

“Nothing would ever change my mind.”

They descended into a comfortable silence as the healers worked away on the Midgardian, taking special care to look after her in the Allmother’s presence. Loki could feel his mother gently stroking her thumb against the back of his hand. Looking down he noticed that she was doing the same with the girl’s.

“While we do not know her name yet,” Frigga declared some time later. “We must refer to her somehow.”

This somewhat piqued his interest. “Did you have anything in mind?”

Peering at her lithe form on the table, healers probing gently at cuts and bruises, Frigga said. “Nothing of yet, but maybe I will be struck with inspiration before she wakes.”

Loki remained seated beside Frigga until the healers had done all they could and explained their progress in short but helpful detail. He stayed by her side when she squeezed the girl’s little hand in her own and assured her that she would not wake up alone in a foreign world. That she would be there to help her. 

A week had gone by since the brothers were informed of Ellie’s situation. After the first day she snuck away from her chambers, Loki had to admit that her stunt amused him, but her urged her to always listen to Frigga because of her continued kindness and patience with regards the girl’s wellbeing. She adamantly agreed to do so and actively partook in all the training the handmaidens were giving her (or so his mother told him). She had not lost her shy and skittish nature, but Loki could see a change in her, however mild it was. She no longer seemed to be frightened of himself or Thor, for that matter. Odin was another story, but he found this understandable. That being said, her headaches and stomachaches persisted. She still urinated in her sleep occasionally and her body remained weedy and weak no matter how much she was encouraged to eat — it continued to be a struggle to gain weight. She still sat with him in the gardens and read in his company. On occasion she spoke, asking him questions about his ‘mammy’ and ‘daddy’ and ‘big brother’.

“Is Thor your big brother?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Do you play games together?”

“Not really. When we were children we played together more often.”

“Do you’s not play together ’cause you’s are grown ups now?”

“I suppose. I do not like his friends and they do not like me, so I avoid spending much time with them.”

“Do you like reading instead?”

“Yes. They would rather not spend time with me anyway.”

“But he’s your big brother! He takes care of you.”

“He does sometimes, little one.”

“Sometimes?”

A pause.

“Do you have siblings, Ellie?”

“Siblings?”

“That is a word for a brother or sister. Thor is my sibling. Do you have any?”

“Oh… No.”

“None?”

“I don’t have any.”

Loki did not push the issue, but he did not entirely believe the child either. There was something in the way she hung her head and avoided his gaze that only confirmed his suspicions. 

Either way, Loki returned to his gardening that particular day and Ellie returned to the daisies that held her attention. He glanced at her a couple of times and observed how she plucked the daisies from the grass and began to lace them together. Pinching a hole in their stems with her nail, she strung them together in a long line, over and over, with complete concentration. While Loki got back on his knees and observed her every so often, Ellie never strayed from her work, if you could call it that. He returned to his plants and dug away at the soil, leaving small holes to house some of the newer flowers he had grown with Frigga. When she wasn’t secretly educating him in the ways of seiðr, she encouraged his participation in the various plants that grew in her gardens. He wasn’t complaining; at least here no one bothered him.

He looked up at the sound of approaching footfalls only to see Ellie standing next to him. Her arms were outstretched and in her hands she held a circlet of daisies, arranged and braided together over and over to give them strength and what he assumed was a visual aesthetic. The white and yellow flowers shone brightly in the sunny day and he studied them for a moment before meeting her gaze.

“Here,” she announced shyly. “I made you this.”

He raises a brow at her and placed the flower he held into the awaiting soil. “What is it?”

“A crown,” she stated rather simply, her blue eyes wide with expectation.

“A crown?” he asked, rather suspiciously.

“You’re a prince and princes sometimes wear crowns.”

He shook his head lightly. “I think you are mistaken, little one. In Asgard, crowns are usually reserved for kings.”

Ellie frowned and her arms lowered slightly. “But if you’re a prince, it means that someday you’ll be king, right?”

He stared at her in silence and took his time before responding. “Perhaps.”

“Then here, this can be a crown for a king instead!”

Her eyes shone with hope while her arms were shaking with fear of rejection. Having known the same feeling far too many times, Loki couldn’t help but think of when he tried to impress Odin with his seiðr as a child, only to be met with indignant responses and an order to stop his practices. Not wanting to see the look of defeat on her delicate face, he reached up to take the crown from her. Holding the intricate circlet in his hands, he gave it a once over.

“Do you like it?” she enquired and held her hands behind her back.

“Yes,” he answered with a nod. “It is a well-made crown. Where did you learn to make these?”

She shrugged and dug her foot into the grass. “My mammy showed me how.”

“I see.” He turned to set the crown down on the grass beside him until he caught a glimpse of her slightly hurt expression. Looking between her and his present, he sighed and set it on his head instead. He pretended to shift it until it sat comfortably and showed it off to her. “Well, how does it look?”

“You look like the King of the Garden,” was the reply that came with a small smile.

The fact that he had given her some small ounce of joy just by accepting her gift was enough to put a smile on his face as well. “Well now, the King of the Garden appreciates his new crown. It is a rather fine piece of art.”

Ellie giggled — she actually giggled — and clapped her little dirty hands together in delight. He had never seen her laugh before. A smile here and there was not so rare, but laughter? That was a new one. And he had been the one to rouse such an action from her.

The moment was effectively broken when a distant voice called out Ellie’s name. They both looked up in the direction it had come from, the Midgardian nearly jumping out of her own skin at the sound. It wasn’t long before Thor came thundering from around the corner, grinning widely at the sight of them.

“There you are, Ellie!” he boomed and approached with his signature jaunty walk. “Hello to you too, little brother.”

Loki barely inclined his head. “Thor.”

The God of Thunder ruffled Ellie’s hair with a big hand as he squinted at his sibling. “Why are there flowers on your head?”

Loki’s throat went dry at the realisation that he still wore his homemade crown. Before he was swift enough to remove it, Ellie spoke up.

“I made Loki a crown, Thor,” she explained and tugged on Thor’s hand, urging him to look at her work of art. “‘Cause he’ll be a king and kings have crowns. Not like princes, who only have them sometimes. Do you like it? I made it with the daisies in the grass!”

The eldest Odinson looked down at the girl with an amused expression. “It is a well-crafted crown. You should be proud. Perhaps someday I shall take you to the forge and show you how to make one out of real metal.”

“But Loki likes flowers,” she murmured, bemused at his suggestion.

Thor laughed as he gave Loki another once over. “It is quite becoming, brother.”

“Do shut up,” Loki snapped. “What do you want?”

“Can I not walk through the gardens without an incentive?”

Loki barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You never walk in the gardens.”

“True, but I was looking for little Ellie here.”

“For me?” the girl asked and gazed up at him.

“Yes, of course!”

“Why?”

“Well, I found myself rather bored with the Warriors Three away on tedious political duties, and thought that perhaps you would be up for a game?”

Her eyes lit up suddenly and she gave him a happy nod. “I wanna play a game!”

Thor seemed elated at the prospect. “Wonderful! How about we play the Frost Giant game? Loki and I used to play that when we were as small as you.”

“I don’t know that game. How do we play it?” Ellie asked, openly displaying her curiosity.

“Well, you can play the game with two or more people. One of them plays the part of the Frost Giant. His goal is to chase the other players around until he catches one of them, then the one who he catches becomes the Frost Giant. But there is one player who is called the Hero. He can fight the Frost Giant and save the other players if he wins. When we were children, Loki usually played the Frost Giant and I played the Hero, isn’t that right, brother?”

Loki’s only response was a grunt at the memory of that stupid game.

“That sounds like Chasing,” Ellie said, whatever that meant. “But I haven’t played it with heroes and Frost Giants before. I’m too little to be a giant.”

“Fear not, little Midgardian!” Thor announced. “Due to my big stature, I will be happy to play the part of the Frost Giant, you will just have to run as fast as you can!”

Releasing her hand and bearing his teeth in a playful manner, Thor crouched slightly and raised his large arms above his head. A growl came from his mouth. “A little Midgardian would be delicious for my dinner!”

Ellie took off immediately, grinning at the God’s ridiculous display. Loki watched in wonderment as Thor followed her on stomping feet and called after her with the most laughable ‘threats’. The girl seemed to relish in the attention, for once enjoying his brother’s boisterous nature. Had he attempted this weeks go, it would not have been surprising to see the child burst into tears. They bounded around the garden, leaping over flower beds and hiding behind the tall tree trunks. Although he did his damnedest to make sure it wasn’t noticeable, Loki had to admit to himself that it was pleasant to see her running around the gardens after such a harrowing time. It wasn’t so long ago that she was cooped up in the healers wing and unable to move from her bed.

“Loki! Loki, help!” Ellie called, running straight towards him. He jumped when she collided with his legs and hid behind them, effectively putting him between herself and Thor. “You have to play the hero and help me!”

“Ah, I’m not so sure that I want to play,” he muttered and looked at his brother in displeasure.

“But you have to!”

“Loki, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Thor said. “Come, play with us. You have to save her from the Frost Giant!”

And just like that, Thor was in character as the aggressor once more, heading straight for the pair of them. Loki was able to feel Ellie’s hands clutching at his leg as the antagonist got closer and closer. With a wry smile, Loki took a fighting stance and let his inhibitions slip for a brief moment.

“You think that you can defeat me, monster?” the Trickster declared, encouraged by the child behind him. “You will not lay a hand on her!”

“No simple Asgardian can stop me!” Thor retaliated and roared.

“Loki, here!” He looked down to his side to see Ellie holding a broken branch about three feet in length up to him. “Use the sword!”

“Thank you, little one,” he replied before he took the branch in hand and pointed it towards Thor, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “You have been causing havoc for far too long, creature. You will die by my hand!”

“I would like to see you try, Trickster!” was the response before the two brothers collided.

Loki couldn’t remember the last time he had played a game with his brother. Sparing was one thing (and still a rare occurrence) that usually ended in an argument, but right now they seemed to be fairing well. He could only assume that it was due to the presence of a third party, although that had never prevented them from arguing before. Perhaps it was because together they were providing a shy child with some entertainment. However rare it was for them to get on, it still happened on occasion.

After a brief and fake fight, Loki struck Thor on the shoulder with the branch and, with a subtle use of seiðr, had him trip and fall to the ground. The god landed with a grunt and Loki casually placed a foot on Thor’s chest. Ellie laughed at the sight of them and the younger Odinson relished in the the moment briefly before moving away from his sibling and allowing him to get back on his feet.

“Was that really necessary, brother?” Thor asked as he placed a hand on his lower back and shifted uncomfortably.

“Of course it was,” Loki answered, grinning. “It was all to entertain Ellie, after all.”

Thor looked slightly displeased, but eventually lightened up when he saw the girl’s reaction. “That is the only time I will allow you to stand on me.”

“Oh, Thor, do refrain from being such a spoilsport.”

* * *

Ellie’s training in the ways of being a handmaiden were going well, from what Frigga told Loki. At the supper times, he enquired about her progress on occasion, which seemed to result in disapproving looks from Odin. Thor did the same when not rambling about war or escapades with Sif and the Warriors Three. It was a change of pace from the usual political jargon and war waffle that consumed most conversation over the dinner table, although the Allfather made a habit of cutting the conversation short each time the subject was breeched. The move resulted in a disapproving glance from Frigga but her lips remained sealed. On one occasion, Loki’s inquiry was met with Odin’s fist slamming down on to the surface of the table, rattling every piece of tableware in front of them. Every one of them started and others that had been eating in the dining hall threw wary glances in their direction.

“I will have no more questions asked about that mortal!” Odin spat, eerily low. “No more at this table or elsewhere, for that matter! You are princes and you will not waste your time following that child about. We have more important matters to attend to in this realm, and it is best that you both remember that.”

The rest of this dinner was eat in uneasy silence.

It was the following morning in Loki’s quarters during his seiðr training with Frigga when she brought up Ellie again.

“She still urinates in her sleep.”

Loki looked up from the paragraph he had been told to read about conjuring duplicates. “Really? Why?”

“She suffers from night terrors,” his mother explained calmly. “From time to time, she wakes up in floods of tears.”

“I bet the other handmaidens just love that. I thought she was too old for bedwetting.”

“Loki…” Her tone was very clear: a warning.

“What?”

“Now is not the time to be callous.”

“You know it is in my nature.”

“Nor is it the time for trivial excuses.”

“Trivial?” He smirked petulantly before looking back down at his book. “I think Father would agree with me. Why do you dote over that mortal?”

“Why do I dote? I wish to see her heal and live with some ounce of normality.”

“She will never have normality in Asgard,” he deadpanned. “She does not belong here. Why you even kept her here is beyond m e.”

“She is a child who was left to die,” Frigga stated in an equally impassive manner. “Abandoned in an alleyway and beaten nearly to death, and you wonder why I kept her here? Why I did not leave her there and move on? What would you have done, Loki?”

Now staring up at his mother, he faltered, feeling well and truly scolded for his harsh comments. He loved his mother — there was no denying that — and she loved him, but on occasion she did not hesitate from slapping him on the wrist when deserved. He could not answer honestly and she knew that.

“Father seems to think her to be of no importance.”

It wasn’t a snide remark and he made sure that it didn’t come across as one. He only wanted to understand the reasoning behind the situation.

Frigga sighed gently and took a seat next to him. “Your father is merely concerned for you and Thor. He fears that you will let the mortal distract you from your duties. Part of being a king is knowing when to grant mercy to those who deserve it.”

“Then I cannot see her again?” he asked quizzically. He would never admit it, but he had come to grow somewhat fond — no, used to — Ellie’s silent company in the gardens.

“You may see her,” she reassured him and held on to his hand. “I think that your company has helped her to heal, as well as Thor’s. It would be unwise to cut her off from what is healing her body and mind. She had requested another book to read yesterday and I promised to bring her to the library in the afternoon before my meeting with the messengers from Vanaheim. Why don’t you join us?”

“You run errands with her now?” he asked with a piqued but playful brow.

“When I can. And when she asks nicely, yes.”

He hesitated but nodded after a moment, resigning to the fact that he would like to come along. “Alright, I will accompany you both.”

“Good. Now, have you finished the chapter yet?”

The familiar cheesier cat grin returned to his face. “It is so hard to read and speak with you at the same time.”

“Remind me to curse that silver tongue of yours later,” she jested and it actually made him chuckle aloud.

“That I shall.”

He spent the rest of his morning in his sleeping attire, practicing his duplicate seiðr with some success, the spell getting stronger and stronger each time. After breakfasting alone in his chambers, he only got dressed when it was time to go and accompany Frigga and Ellie to the library. He found them outside the handmaidens’ chambers, Ellie now adorned in the usual garb for her new position. She stood silently with her hand in Frigga’s, watching him as he arrived. Together, the three of them walked to the library, the Midgardian speaking to Frigga with surprising openness. In the months gone by, she had only gotten more and more comfortable with the Allmother. She rattled on innocently, telling her about her morning where she was taught how to properly prepare a table for an Asgardian feast. While she still loved the play and read books when she could, Ellie rarely complained about the work she had to do. Sometimes she pouted through orders, but never dismissed them. Loki could only assume that she was just happy to be far away from whatever hands had harmed her.

One habit that the little one acquired from the other handmaidens was odd for Loki to see.

“Hi, My Prince Loki,” Ellie greeted him with an awkward bow of the head.

“Little one,” he replied with narrowed green eyes before turning to his mother. “She is to acknowledge us as her superiors now?”

“Fen and Sevda told me that I have to call you and Thor, and your mammy and daddy by new names or I’ll get in trouble, My Prince Loki,” Ellie explained, before Frigga could get a word in edgeways. “I’ve to call your mammy ‘your Majesty’, and ‘Allmother’, and ‘My Queen’. And your daddy is the ‘Allfather’, My Prince Loki.”

Loki grimaced. “It is either ‘My Prince’ or ‘Prince Loki’. You are mixing the two together.”

Ellie frowned and lowered her head sadly. “Sorry, Prince Loki.”

“Do not fret, Ellie,” Frigga whispered, quick to stop her spirit from falling. “You are learning and doing quite well so far.”

In the library, Frigga brought the two of them straight to the Midgardian fiction section and let Ellie root through the shelves to find whatever caught her eye. Loki wandered back to the section on Midgardian history, aimlessly reading the titles on the dusty books’ spines.

“Considering brushing up on Midgard’s history?” Frigga asked from over his shoulder.

He shrugged. “It’s not like it would be worth toiling in. As far as I remember from Arvid’s lessons, they had a nasty habit of frequently killing each other.”

“They have a history of war, not unlike the other realms in Yggdrasil.”

“War over petty arguments and mortals with inferiority complexes.”

“Not all were so, Loki.”

“No, not all. But still quite a lot, if I remember correctly.”

“While there were unnecessary battles, some were greatly needed and resulted in fairer lives for many.”

“I will take your word for it. You have seen some of these wars, yes?”

“Most,” she replied simply and watched as Ellie pulled a book from its place on the shelf. “If I remember correctly, you were adamant about learning all about Midgard, and of  what humans had to offer, when you were a child.”

“My Queen!” the girl exclaimed in excitement, her eyes glowing in delight before rushing to Frigga’s side. “I found it! I found it! Can I get this one? Please, please, please?”

Ellie held the blue and gold embossed book up to Frigga and Loki took the opportunity to glance at its title — The Jungle Book. On the cover, he saw big, lumbering animals that he recognised as those large Midgardian creatures — elephants? — with mortals atop their backs.

“Can I read it?” she asked again as Frigga gave the book a once over.

“It looks very exciting, little one,” she replied with a friendly smile. “Of course you may. We shall bring it to Tadaaki, the librarian, in a moment.”

They browsed through the shelves for a while longer and Loki casually followed as his mother brought the young girl to the section on Midgardian music.

“Do you enjoy music, Ellie?” she asked and pulled a book out from its place.

The little girl nodded carefully, curiosity blooming from her. “I love music, your Majesty.”

“Good. We have a book here and it contains a whole range of old traditional songs from your homeland. I thought it would please you to read them.”

“For me?” Her eyes grew big at the sight of the thick tome, massive in the clutches of her fingers.

“Yes. Come, let us read some of them.”

Frigga ushered them to one of the hearths — more particularly, Loki’s favoured chair during nightly trips to the library — and took Ellie on her knee. On the other, she placed the book and began to flick through the pages.

“What land is she from?” Loki asked, standing a small distance away from them hesitantly, watching the odd scene unfold before him.

“Ireland,” Frigga called back, not lifting her eyes from the pages of the book. “It is a small island within Europe, known for its verdant landscape, music, and dance. Do you know of it?”

“I do, but not much, other than the apparent alcoholism of the Irish.”

The Queen ignored the later half of his sentence. “Then come and sit with us. It will do you no good to stand over there on your own.”

Loki abided by his mother’s request and took a seat on one of the chairs beside them. He sat with one ankle resting on the knee of his other leg and his knuckles resting against his lips. He watched them without looking away for a long time as they flicked through many pages. Ellie’s eye were fixed on them as if they contained the same information as the legendary Infinity Stones. Some songs seemed to hold her attention more than others, but there was one in particular that seemed to grip her more than the rest. Her eyes blew wide again but her brow remained furrowed. Her hands held on to the edges of the book as tight as they could.

This was how I found another small piece of home when I felt as far from it as possible; an old rebel song that would always remind me of my mother. 

“My mammy sings this to me,” she murmured, her voice as small and gentle as it had been the first time she spoke all that time ago.

Frigga payed close attention to her. “Does she?”

A slow nod. “When I have bad dreams. She makes them go away.”

The soft crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room. For a while, no one spoke a word. Ellie remained perched on Frigga’s knee, but curled her thin body inwards, her head resting on the Queen’s shoulder. Sensing the need for comfort, Frigga spoke up in her usual gentle voice.

“I may not sing it as well as your mother, but would you like me to sing it for you?”

Ellie nodded again, her lower lip trembling.

Loki observed in silence, undoubtably eager to her his mother singing. It had been quite some time since she had sung in his presence — the routine of singing both himself and Thor to sleep with old Asgardian lullabies was a fond memory that brought him joy quite often. While he constantly questioned his worth and value in the eyes of his father, he never doubted Frigga. She was a wonderful mother and made him feel truly loved.

Rocking slowly back and forth, she looked at the pages on the book and began to sing the tune as instructed:

As we gather in the chapel here in old Kilmainham Jail 

I think about these past few weeks, oh will they say we’ve failed? 

From our school days they have told us we must yearn for liberty 

Yet all I want in this dark place is to have you here with me 

Oh Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger 

They’ll take me out at dawn and I will die 

With all my love I place this wedding ring upon your finger 

There won’t be time to share our love for we must say goodbye 

Now I know it’s hard for you, my love, to ever understand 

The love I shared for these brave men, the love for my dear land 

But when glory called me to his side down in the GPO 

I had to leave my own sick bed, to him I had to go 

Oh, Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger 

They’ll take me out at dawn and I will die 

With all my love I’ll place this wedding ring upon your finger 

There won’t be time to share our love for we must say goodbye 

Now as the dawn is breaking, my heart is breaking too 

On this May morn as I walk out, my thoughts will be of you 

And I’ll write some words upon the wall so everyone will know 

I loved so much that I could see his blood upon the rose. 

Oh, Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger 

They’ll take me out at dawn and I will die 

With all my love I’ll place this wedding ring upon your finger 

There won’t be time to share our love for we must say goodbye 

For we must say goodbye

Loki did not know the story behind the song’s origin — though he made a mental note to research the locations and names mentioned at a later time — but he could not deny the chilling and poignant lyrics of the melody. It undoubtably had an effect on Ellie too, who’s eyes had drifted shut, lashes wet from tears. Frigga’s eyes had also closed, her body still rocking to and fro with the small child in her arms.

“Thor, there is really no need for you to accept,” Loki had explained, trying to convince him to just let it go as the crowd from the tavern began to gather around them. They cheered loudly, slamming tankards down on tables in delight. Though more reserved than the Aesir, it seemed that the Light Elves were feeding off the buzz created by the lumbering travellers who had initiated the fight in the first place.

‘Come out’, Thor said! Loki thought to himself. ‘We can go and find ourselves some voluptuous maidens for tonight’! All I wanted was a decent fuck and now Thor has to prove just how powerful he is to some other imbecile out to do the same thing.

“Nah ah, Loki,” he drawled, pulling up the sleeves of his undershirt and pausing to hiccup. “This man wants a fight and a fight he shall have!”

“Thor—”

“Get a load of this, fellas!” Thor’s challenger, a burly brute who also hailed from Asgard, declared to his friends. “I am about to beat the God of Thunder at hand-to-hand!”

Thor bellowed in amusement at the comment. “You’re quite cocky for someone who has not felt the force of a strike in the jaw from said god!”

While Loki was also on the verge of being drunk, he was very close to sending the men away with some particularly chosen words that both stroked their ego and subdued his brother in his drunken mess, but it was a sudden lunging punch at Thor from one of the challenger’s friends that caused all the violence to erupt.

“Oh, bugger,” Loki sighed and watched as Thor tossed a body off of his and across the tavern. Chairs flew along with people, drinks splashed everywhere, people yelled and roared as fists met stomachs and boots met teeth. Loki managed to dodge most of the blows thrown his way, bar one that left him with a black eye he covered up with glamour.

“Thor!” he screamed as he reached his older brother. “We need to get out of here!”

“But the fun has only started!” was the delighted reply as Thor threw a man out of one of the windows. The glass smashed everywhere and before Loki could even reach his sibling, he had another man grasped in his huge hands. Even in his intoxicated state, he was still tossing punches left, right, and centre, and effectually subduing his attackers.

“We have to get back to the castle!” Loki insisted and grabbed Thor’s shoulder while the fight waged around them, bodies slamming together like a churning, sweaty sea. “Now!”

“They started it!” Thor scoffed and swung a table into a man charging him. “Who’s up next?”

Loki had had enough and shoved with all his might and with the assistance of seiðr. “Out! Now!”

Once outside in the formerly peaceful night, the battle refrained from spilling out with them. They were lucky that the drunken brawlers were in fact too drunk to notice the reason for their aggression had left. The cool and fresh night air was a welcome change to the sticky and hot feeling of inside the tavern. That and it was always nice not having to dodge numerous punches towards you.

“When Father hears about this,” Loki grumbled as they mounted their horses and began their escape. “He is going to wring our necks.”

“You worry too much, Loki,” Thor slurred with a dismissive wave of the hand while he struggled into his saddle. “We will be fine, you’ll see.”

Loki rolled his eyes and pushed some soaking hair from his face. “I should have gotten a bloody goat to distract them.”

“Oh, yes, brother!” Thor agreed and began to laugh uncontrollably. “The revellers do love it when you tug with the goat!”

Despite the rough night they had, the brothers looked at each other before sharing a laugh on the road back to the castle.

Thor’s confidence ended up being for nothing. While the berating Odin gave them was mild upon hearing about their antics, they were forbidden from returning to Asgard for another five months. Frigga sent a letter from home every now and then, asking for how they faired and telling them of whatever happenings occurred in their absence. Because of their galavanting about in what was formally a peaceful tavern, Frey ordered them to remain within the castle walls for the remainder of their stay, mostly due to Odin’s insistence, so the siblings were forced to obey. The five extra months they had to suffer through ended up being surprisingly quiet. It was hard to create a ruckus when they were confined to the palace. That and the endless mentoring and political meetings they had to attend left them drained.

If Odin’s goal as to leave them regretting their ‘unseemly’ behaviour, he had succeeded.

Loki usually relished in time away from Asgard to explore other realms, but he was genuinely happy to be home when their time was up. The embrace that his mother gave him was a comfort that he had surely missed.

Ellie was more than merry upon their return. She even let Thor pick her up and embrace her when she first saw him again. But Loki was not left out when they reunited — a firm hug around his waist was a surprise, but he didn’t push her away.

“You missed my tenth birthday,” she said dryly as they separated. 

Loki rolled his eyes.“Namedays have less meaning to those who have roughly five thousand of them in their lifetime.”

Her eyes went wide. “You guys are so old!”

“I am only just passed my thousandth year, little one, so I am not that ancient yet.”

“But you’re a lot older than me. That makes you old.”

“It would seem that your logic is quite flawed.”

Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her best pout. “You’re just annoyed because I’m not scared of you!”

He shrugged dismissively. “I never claimed that I wanted you to be frightened of me. That you should recognise me as your God and that you are beneath me, maybe, but frightening you was not part of my intention.”

She let out a little laugh and grinned up at him since he first arrived. “You’re funny, Loki! I missed your jokes.”

“I did not make any jokes!” 

No one had said that he was amusing before. It was not a common word people used to describe him, but if saying saucy remarks resulted in her laughter, he wouldn’t mind saying them more often. It was far better to see her laughing than cowering from him.

* * *

A few days later, Loki was strolling idly through the gardens of Asgard with Frigga. They had been in the yard together going through their combat training as usual. While she had taught him how to effectively wield daggers and to win a battle through tactical assault many years ago, she still insisted on refreshing his skills once a week. Two handmaidens followed them at a distance, bringing them cups of water or some fruit when asked.

“What is your opinion on Midgardians, Mother?” he asked her after a brief silence.

“Why do you ask?” was her curious reply.

“I have been thinking on what Father said about them during the banquet when he informed Thor and I that we would be sent to Alfheim. He said that they were of no importance, that their lives end so quickly they are a waste of our time as gods. Do you agree?”

As Frigga contemplated her answer, their footfalls began to sync up, their feet landing in step on the stone path below. “Not entirely, no.”

“No?”

“I do not agree that their mortality makes them unworthy of our time. Yes, we are gods and they are mortals with much shorter lives who, in some cases, worship us as being above them, but I would say that their mortality has an entirely different meaning.”

Loki furrowed his brow and turned his gaze on her pensive expression. “And what would you say it means?”

“Your father believes that a human’s mortality makes them unworthy, whereas I feel that their mortality makes their life precious.”

“Precious?” he scoffed. “Mother, I would agree that Father was harsh in what he said, but you cannot honestly tell me that you believe them to be cherished? Surely they are there to worship us and go about their human lives, while we prolong their existence by keeping peace within Yggdrasil?”

Frigga gently rubbed the arm that he had linked around her own. “My son, look at it this way for a moment. Their lives are short — far shorter than our own. That means that they have a lot to do is such a short amount of time. It also means that we will outlive them. Take little Ellie for example. She has now spent half of her own life here on Asgard with us. She looks up to you, likes playing with you and Thor, likes to read her stories and listen to her Midgardian musicians, but you will see her pass from this world before you do. It is an exceptionally harsh reality when you have bonded with a human, but their mortality will inevitably cause you pain. Yes, your position as royalty means that you are above her in status, but her human life does not make her unworthy of your time. If anything, it makes your time with her more precious. Do you understand?”

He paused and mulled it over. It made logical sense — the less time you had with someone, the more it should be cherished, but he knew his father was firm in his stance. As far as Odin was concerned, mortals were beneath the gods and that was that.

“I can understand your logic,” he eventually said, slowing as they walked around a well-decorated fountain. “After all, she is exceedingly less annoying that I thought she would be.”

“And she also seems to have taken after you in some regard,” Frigga laughed gently, giving his arm a little tug. “I have never seen Thor’s hair so well decorated with flowers before.”

“She may be mortal,” Loki murmured with an air of approval. “But I must admit she has a knack for little tricks.”

“It does not surprise me after all the time she has spent in your company.”

“The less she spends in Thor’s, the better.”

That earned him a mild scold, even if Frigga did recognised his playful tone. 

* * *

Loki was in the library late one night when he had unexpected company. The large doors opened with a slight creak, and he looked up from his book to see Ellie potter in.

“It’s a little late for you to be wandering these halls, don’t you think?” he said loudly, causing the little one to jump.

“Loki!” she exclaimed before letting out a sigh and visibly relaxing. “I didn’t know it was you. I thought I was caught for a sec.”

Upon questioning her further, she revealed that she had forgotten to get one of her new Harry Potter books from the library earlier and managed to sneak from her shared quarters to come and get it. He remained in his chair, brushing over some seiðr notes his mother had given him as the girl went to fetch said book. Three years after his return from Alfheim, Ellie had reached the age of thirteen. Her interest in Midgard — which had just reached its two thousandth year — only grew stronger the more history and facts she learned. After his discussion with Frigga, Loki saw the importance in her words and refused to let Odin’s insistence prevent him from making Ellie’s life in a foreign realm a little easier. She had remained settled thankfully and continued to slowly adjust. The mental scarring from whatever befell her on Midgard remained, but physically she had looked less weedy of late. As a result, he and Thor settled into their old habit of seeing her when they could and the Allfather said nothing about it. As to whether that had anything to do with the Allmother, Loki did not know, but he still assumed as much. He was so transfixed by the sheets of paper, he barely noticed her return.

“Are you studying seiðr, Prince Loki?” she asked with the book tucked under her arm.

“Yes, little Ellie,” he replied, looking up briefly.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I have not yet attempted it.”

Ellie looked between the prince and the book in her hands. “I wish I could do magic.”

“Like your book?” he asked absentmindedly.

“Maybe… But more like your magic — seiðr.”

He scoffed. “It is not exactly a Midgardian practice. There are even few Asgardians who are very familiar with it. The Vanir would be considered the masters of it, even if they are ridiculously arrogant about the fact.”

“Hogun doesn’t seem that arrogant.”

“That is not exactly the word I would use to describe his personality…”

Perhaps the term pompous ass would better suit him?

“I know it’s not a very Midgardian thing,” Ellie continued on, seemingly unfazed by Loki’s words. “But I wish I was as good at it as you are.”

He looked up from his studies at her statement, lips pouted curiously. “You wish to learn seiðr?”

She shrugged. “If I could.”

Loki remained in his seat, tapping his fingers and watching the young mortal as she read the back of The Goblet of Fire. In his mind, he considered his options (mostly Odin’s disgruntled reaction to said options) before opening his mouth.

“You know,” he began casually. “There are certain Midgardians that are capable of learning the art of seiðr.”

His statement seemed to grab her immediate interest. “Really?”

“Indeed, little one. Certain individuals who trained hard enough and for a long enough time. They dedicated themselves to the art and became shamans with a connection to both good and evil spirits in the world.”

“Would they not practice for a super long time?”

“Well, you could put it that way, yes. It took a lot of practice, a lot of time, and a lot of patience. Much as it was when my mother taught me.”

“Have you ever taught anyone seiðr?”

He shook his head. “Not as of yet. Although I had yet to find someone I thought worthy of learning.”

“So,” she drawled out, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Does that mean you would teach someone? If you thought they were worth it? You would then?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged slightly and gestured to the stack of tomes on the table. “If my student is willing to study as hard as I.”

“I’m willin’!” Ellie blurted out before he could explain any further.

He assessed her expression — a surprisingly earnest one — before he opened his mouth to answer. “Are you now, little Ellie?”

“Yeah, I am. I would love to learn how to do magic, my Lord, and you’re the best one to learn from, instead of maybe the Queen herself!”

“Oh my, you do flatter me.” 

Standing abruptly from his chair, Loki strolled over to the section of the library dedicated to the practice of magic. Being so familiar with this section, he easily found one of the first books he read in relation to beginners seiðr and made his way back over to where Ellie was waiting. Upon his return, she straightened her posture and waited to be spoken to, a habit instilled in her by her handmaiden training.

“Relax yourself. There’s no need for formalities at this ungodly hour,” Loki grumbled and held out the book to her. “If you want me to teach you, then go and familiarise yourself with what you will be learning. Once you have completed your duties and lessons each day, read the history of seiðr, what it consists of, and how you can develop your skill over time. Read chapters one through ten and then come back to me when you have done so. After you have done that much, I can start the basics with you if you wish to continue.”

“My Prince—”

“Loki,” he corrected calmly.

“Prince Loki—”

He groaned loudly. “Just Loki is acceptable at this time of night. It’s a bit late for grand titles, wouldn’t you agree?”

“If you insist,” she said with a nod, and took the book he had offered. She gently traced the intricate design on the cover with a finger, wonderment clear in her expression. “Would you really do that? Would you teach me how to wild seiðr like you?”

He snorted slightly. “You have to understand, you will most certainly not be as skilled as I; I do have a thousand year advantage over you.”

  She frowned at the book, brows furrowed at his comments. “If I can’t practice for as long as you can, then why bother teachin’ me? I’ll probably suck at it.” 

At first he thought her words were in jest, but it became increasingly clear to Loki as he studied her disheartened expression that she was being perfectly serious. If she could not study seiðr for thousands of years to master it, if she could never amount to the level of skill that he or other sorcerers possessed, then why bother at all?

… human life does not make her unworthy of your time. If anything, it makes your time with her more precious.

Without another thought, Loki placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Whether you can survive one hundred years or one thousand means little to me in terms of learning. After eight years in another realm, you have managed to continue your learnings of Midgardian English and Norse ruins, and have excelled in your responsibilities as a handmaiden. If you want to learn, then I will teach you as much as I can in the time we have. Do not think so little of yourself. You won’t get far with an attitude like that.”

“Sorry,” she replied sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

He waved his hand at her and took his seat once more. “Worry not. Now, get yourself to bed before the Einherjar find you sneaking about. I trust you to get back in one piece.”

“I won’t let you down,” she insisted, gesturing to the books in hand as she made her way to the massive library doors. She opened it, careful not to let it creak, hesitated, and then turned to face him again with a small smile. “Thanks for that. And for the books too.”

He gave her a nod and answered. “You’re welcome, little one.”