Summer barely paid attention to where her feet were going, too absorbed in looking around at all the differences between Asgardian forests and the forests at home. Superficially, everything seemed the same — tall trees, green leaves, small animals and insects. But the greens were different, sometimes, and the leaves were shaped strangely, tree bark rougher or smoother, seeds or flowers more vibrant. She stopped for a moment to put her hand on the bole of a narrow sapling with pale bark, similar to a birch but somehow more silvery, with a soft smile.
He watched her for a moment too long perhaps, then continued. As he turned, a particularly thorny branch snapped him in the face.
“And to think, not long ago I was a king,” he muttered dramatically.
Catching his remark, Summer spluttered and snorted. “You were in a glass box, you said. That doesn’t sound like king of much. Are you counting on some kind of restoration, here? I don’t think that’s going to go over well. And, uh, I’m not going to back you on that one.”
He sighed, glaring up at the sky. At least she wasn’t one to mindlessly flatter. Still. “There’s no need to be rude, darling,” he said rather sharply. “But worry not, I’ve long since abandoned such ambitions. Asgard is a petty prize to me now.” It was as if he could hear how foolish he must sound to her, and yet he still couldn’t stop saying such things. He shoved a branch out of his way a bit too roughly. It would be a long day, that much was certain.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” she sighed. Finding a bigger tree, she stopped by it and rolled the backpack off her shoulders. “I’ve been assuming we have an actual destination — do we? Or are we just wandering and hoping to find a cave?” She rubbed at a shoulder where the strap had bitten into the muscle.
“Backpack,” she said succinctly. Summer knelt and began to fold up the blankets, rolling them up into neat bundles and strapping ties around them. She had to stand up to handle the last one, shaking it hard to get the leaf litter and bark bits off, and dragged an enormous canvas backpack from under a bush, shoving the blankets in. In another minute, she was struggling into the straps, wriggling her shoulders to settle the weight.
“I do appreciate the thought, though,” she said, belatedly. She handed him the electric lantern. “Lead, yes?”
Loki was vaguely insulted that this woman was carrying their supplies while he simply held the lantern, but he supposed that was Summer’s way. Shaking his head, he started off deeper into the wilderness.
He had always had a fondness for the variety of flora in his home forests. The swaying vines and shimmering dew covered leaves brought him a sense of peace that little else could offer. They disturbed a flock of birds as they pushed through the undergrowth, and they darted shrieking into the sky. Loki looked back at Summer, framed by the disappearing birds.
Summer barely paid attention to where her feet were going, too absorbed in looking around at all the differences between Asgardian forests and the forests at home. Superficially, everything seemed the same — tall trees, green leaves, small animals and insects. But the greens were different, sometimes, and the leaves were shaped strangely, tree bark rougher or smoother, seeds or flowers more vibrant. She stopped for a moment to put her hand on the bole of a narrow sapling with pale bark, similar to a birch but somehow more silvery, with a soft smile.
He watched her for a moment too long perhaps, then continued. As he turned, a particularly thorny branch snapped him in the face.
“And to think, not long ago I was a king,” he muttered dramatically.
Catching his remark, Summer spluttered and snorted. “You were in a glass box, you said. That doesn’t sound like king of much. Are you counting on some kind of restoration, here? I don’t think that’s going to go over well. And, uh, I’m not going to back you on that one.”
Her laughter at his offended dignity was overwhelming, and she fell back over with the force of it. “I hear a story there,” she got out between giggles. It took a minute or so, but she laughed herself out and sat back up. “Okay, okay. No mounting. Get off my blankets and we can start walking.”
“If you’re quite finished,” he rolled his eyes and gave her a playful shove as he stood up. “That is indeed a story for another time and another place, or possibly never. Ask Odin, he’ll quite enjoy spreading my shame,” he added, but imagining hearing the words through the perspective of Summer was just too absurd and he couldn’t keep himself stern.
“How do you plan to carry all of this then? Perhaps I could bespell it to be lighter…”
“Backpack,” she said succinctly. Summer knelt and began to fold up the blankets, rolling them up into neat bundles and strapping ties around them. She had to stand up to handle the last one, shaking it hard to get the leaf litter and bark bits off, and dragged an enormous canvas backpack from under a bush, shoving the blankets in. In another minute, she was struggling into the straps, wriggling her shoulders to settle the weight.
“I do appreciate the thought, though,” she said, belatedly. She handed him the electric lantern. “Lead, yes?”
Loki was vaguely insulted that this woman was carrying their supplies while he simply held the lantern, but he supposed that was Summer’s way. Shaking his head, he started off deeper into the wilderness.
He had always had a fondness for the variety of flora in his home forests. The swaying vines and shimmering dew covered leaves brought him a sense of peace that little else could offer. They disturbed a flock of birds as they pushed through the undergrowth, and they darted shrieking into the sky. Loki looked back at Summer, framed by the disappearing birds.
Summer barely paid attention to where her feet were going, too absorbed in looking around at all the differences between Asgardian forests and the forests at home. Superficially, everything seemed the same — tall trees, green leaves, small animals and insects. But the greens were different, sometimes, and the leaves were shaped strangely, tree bark rougher or smoother, seeds or flowers more vibrant. She stopped for a moment to put her hand on the bole of a narrow sapling with pale bark, similar to a birch but somehow more silvery, with a soft smile.
Summer laughed again. “And you were saying you were no good! Anyway, even if you weren’t, that seems pretty easy to get around — just don’t use magic. If we stick to areas around small villages, away from the city, I could easily get food. That just leaves the question of shelter. It must rain here sometime, and I for one don’t want to be caught in it. Caves, maybe?”
A completely ridiculous idea came to her, and she grinned up at him impishly. “Or we could throw all that out, you take the shape of a horse, and I just ride you out of here.”
Loki made a surprised huff. “I am choosing to interpret that as a jest,” he said stiffly. “No one mounts a god.”
Not ever again, at least. That was one time.
His grimace gave way to a small laugh, but he bit his lip. “Moving forward. I believe if we keep moving north the forest stretches a considerable distance, and there will be caves for shelter.”
Her laughter at his offended dignity was overwhelming, and she fell back over with the force of it. “I hear a story there,” she got out between giggles. It took a minute or so, but she laughed herself out and sat back up. “Okay, okay. No mounting. Get off my blankets and we can start walking.”
“If you’re quite finished,” he rolled his eyes and gave her a playful shove as he stood up. “That is indeed a story for another time and another place, or possibly never. Ask Odin, he’ll quite enjoy spreading my shame,” he added, but imagining hearing the words through the perspective of Summer was just too absurd and he couldn’t keep himself stern.
“How do you plan to carry all of this then? Perhaps I could bespell it to be lighter…”
“Backpack,” she said succinctly. Summer knelt and began to fold up the blankets, rolling them up into neat bundles and strapping ties around them. She had to stand up to handle the last one, shaking it hard to get the leaf litter and bark bits off, and dragged an enormous canvas backpack from under a bush, shoving the blankets in. In another minute, she was struggling into the straps, wriggling her shoulders to settle the weight.
“I do appreciate the thought, though,” she said, belatedly. She handed him the electric lantern. “Lead, yes?”
She laughed, putting her face against his knee. “Survival, yeah, I get that. Otherwise I suspect that smart mouth would’ve gotten you killed before now.” After a moment, she said, “You didn’t answer my questions.”
He let his fingers trail through her hair as he considered. “It won’t be the first place they look, but there are eyes everywhere. There is magic that can seek out a specific source and lock it’s position. Fortunately, I believe I am the only one in this realm who understands such magic.” He smiled smugly, and listened to the sounds of the trees, content to be outside of the reach of that which pained him.
Summer laughed again. “And you were saying you were no good! Anyway, even if you weren’t, that seems pretty easy to get around — just don’t use magic. If we stick to areas around small villages, away from the city, I could easily get food. That just leaves the question of shelter. It must rain here sometime, and I for one don’t want to be caught in it. Caves, maybe?”
A completely ridiculous idea came to her, and she grinned up at him impishly. “Or we could throw all that out, you take the shape of a horse, and I just ride you out of here.”
Loki made a surprised huff. “I am choosing to interpret that as a jest,” he said stiffly. “No one mounts a god.”
Not ever again, at least. That was one time.
His grimace gave way to a small laugh, but he bit his lip. “Moving forward. I believe if we keep moving north the forest stretches a considerable distance, and there will be caves for shelter.”
Her laughter at his offended dignity was overwhelming, and she fell back over with the force of it. “I hear a story there,” she got out between giggles. It took a minute or so, but she laughed herself out and sat back up. “Okay, okay. No mounting. Get off my blankets and we can start walking.”
It took a minute to process that in a not-entirely-awake brain. “Are they likely to know to look here? Here here, I mean, not here Asgard.” She lifted a hand and ran it along his leg, musing. “How big is Asgard, then? We could get pretty lost in these forests, I should think, though food and shelter might be a problem.” She cocked an eye up at him. “Are you capable of roughing it, my lord?” Summer teased.
“Roughing it?” he repeated, turning the plan over in his mind. Hiding in the forest right beneath the eyes of those looking for him. Both degrading and terribly ironic all at once. He liked it.
“You may be surprised to find I am quite skilled at survival,” he offered with a smile.
She laughed, putting her face against his knee. “Survival, yeah, I get that. Otherwise I suspect that smart mouth would’ve gotten you killed before now.” After a moment, she said, “You didn’t answer my questions.”
He let his fingers trail through her hair as he considered. “It won’t be the first place they look, but there are eyes everywhere. There is magic that can seek out a specific source and lock it’s position. Fortunately, I believe I am the only one in this realm who understands such magic.” He smiled smugly, and listened to the sounds of the trees, content to be outside of the reach of that which pained him.
Summer laughed again. “And you were saying you were no good! Anyway, even if you weren’t, that seems pretty easy to get around — just don’t use magic. If we stick to areas around small villages, away from the city, I could easily get food. That just leaves the question of shelter. It must rain here sometime, and I for one don’t want to be caught in it. Caves, maybe?”
A completely ridiculous idea came to her, and she grinned up at him impishly. “Or we could throw all that out, you take the shape of a horse, and I just ride you out of here.”
“I am not always unreliable,” he replied, his voice scratchy with sleep. He pushed himself upright and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree that had sheltered them.
“I’m not sure how much time I have left,” he commented as he watched the leaves flicker in the breeze.
It took a minute to process that in a not-entirely-awake brain. “Are they likely to know to look here? Here here, I mean, not here Asgard.” She lifted a hand and ran it along his leg, musing. “How big is Asgard, then? We could get pretty lost in these forests, I should think, though food and shelter might be a problem.” She cocked an eye up at him. “Are you capable of roughing it, my lord?” Summer teased.
“Roughing it?” he repeated, turning the plan over in his mind. Hiding in the forest right beneath the eyes of those looking for him. Both degrading and terribly ironic all at once. He liked it.
“You may be surprised to find I am quite skilled at survival,” he offered with a smile.
She laughed, putting her face against his knee. “Survival, yeah, I get that. Otherwise I suspect that smart mouth would’ve gotten you killed before now.” After a moment, she said, “You didn’t answer my questions.”
When he opened his eyes to the dim light of morning, Loki felt lighter than he had in—probably centuries. It wasn’t until he remembered that the Allfather’s watchful eyes would soon find him and throw him back into that prison with perhaps an extended sentence that the weight returned. He turned to steal a glance at the woman beside him. He was relieved to find Summer still asleep, her shoulder rising and falling just slightly as she breathed.
He always felt so exposed in the daylight.
Part of him wanted to reach out and curl himself around her, press her hips against his, hide his face in the warm cascade of her hair…but she stirred, and he stayed still.
Summer opened her eyes to sunlight-spattered leaves, closed them again, and rolled over, putting an arm over her eyes. She made an incoherent sound. “I’m on vacation, why am I awake?”
With a sigh, she flopped over onto her back and opened her eyes. She could see Loki’s shoulder, dark hair falling down it. “You’re still here,” she said softly, pleased.
“I am not always unreliable,” he replied, his voice scratchy with sleep. He pushed himself upright and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree that had sheltered them.
“I’m not sure how much time I have left,” he commented as he watched the leaves flicker in the breeze.
It took a minute to process that in a not-entirely-awake brain. “Are they likely to know to look here? Here here, I mean, not here Asgard.” She lifted a hand and ran it along his leg, musing. “How big is Asgard, then? We could get pretty lost in these forests, I should think, though food and shelter might be a problem.” She cocked an eye up at him. “Are you capable of roughing it, my lord?” Summer teased.
When he opened his eyes to the dim light of morning, Loki felt lighter than he had in—probably centuries. It wasn’t until he remembered that the Allfather’s watchful eyes would soon find him and throw him back into that prison with perhaps an extended sentence that the weight returned. He turned to steal a glance at the woman beside him. He was relieved to find Summer still asleep, her shoulder rising and falling just slightly as she breathed.
He always felt so exposed in the daylight.
Part of him wanted to reach out and curl himself around her, press her hips against his, hide his face in the warm cascade of her hair…but she stirred, and he stayed still.
Summer opened her eyes to sunlight-spattered leaves, closed them again, and rolled over, putting an arm over her eyes. She made an incoherent sound. “I’m on vacation, why am I awake?”
With a sigh, she flopped over onto her back and opened her eyes. She could see Loki’s shoulder, dark hair falling down it. “You’re still here,” she said softly, pleased.
He traced her profile with his eyes, imagining the feeling of the soft curves beneath his fingers. More empty words to soothe his wounds. If only he could believe such warm lies, but he knew what he was. What he always would be. But the sting was lessened at the thought of her still being there, thinking he was better than he was.
Perhaps he was missing the point, but he was tired, and she was beautiful.
“It is alright, Lady Summer. You need not…” he trailed off, swallowing.
“You don’t believe me.” She swallowed hard, trying to force down the lump in her throat. “Of course you don’t believe me. Of — of course I couldn’t possibly convince you, how old are you, how long you’ve been … ” She jumbled to a stop, gulping again.
She let go of his hands to rub at her face, forcing back involuntary tears. “Humans have a thing we do, sometimes. We say we have a family of blood, the family we were born to or raised in, and a family of the heart, the people we choose and share our lives with.”
He heard the change in her voice and fear surfaced from somewhere within him. He felt what she must feel, listening to him, wanting more, wanting…
“Please don’t,” he murmured, leaning over her, smoothing his fingers over that skin at last. “I will try, darling. I have heard you and I will do anything to try.” And then he pressed their lips together, chaste and reserved, sealing the connection between them at last.
She hadn’t realised how much she wanted that kiss until he gave it to her. There was no reason for it to seem so powerful, except that she’d missed him more than she admitted, and they’d always teased. Well, he had. She didn’t press for more, though, too weary, too worn with the struggles of the last hour.
Instead she put her hand back over his and squeezed. “We can try together.”