WHEN THE KING OF NEW ASGARD LAUGHED — it was a full, resonating sound - her eyes sliding away from Trish to watch as said goats stomped their way through the muddied farmyard noisily claiming their KINGDOM. “ I’m saying that you are trying to win over the wrong people in charge. ” her smile remained wide and sly, as she watched the other woman use the handkerchief, her stomach clenching as she brought the soft fabric across her cheek, brushing it only momentarily across her lips — the sensation was unfamiliar but not completely … unwelcome.
It was only in that moment, that the warrior realized it was the same emotion that had been there since the Midgardian had shown up at her doorstep the night before, and that it had only slowly built throughout the day. It was something distractingly pleasant and — encouraging in its warmth. The Valkyrie wanted to focus on that new, TINGLING sensation but as soon as it rose within her chest it was suddenly … marred by something much older and much more … familiar. It caught her off guard now as it ever had – the sudden spasm of guilt and regret that clenched muscles with the acknowledgement of that sigil. Suddenly, her smile faded and some of that steely, warrior like reserve returned as the Valkyrie nodded in acknowledgement, a dark strand of hair escaping her tight braid. Many on more on Midgard recognized the rune of the Valkyrior than she had thought possible – it was as heartening as it was heartbreaking each time it was correctly identified … Grief gripped her for only a moment as Trish came nearer, some of that old sadness lessoning as she caught that familiar scent of hard work and — a morning spent with ungrateful nannies.
The Valkyrie looked up at the sound of the other woman’s name, embarrassed suddenly that she had LOST herself, even if for just a moment — in that old pain. One battle hardened hand came to shield the Valkyrie’s eyes as she looked up to find Trish in the glare of the noon sun — her cheeks flushed and her eyes - brighter than the brilliant sky above them.
Words were, uncharacteristically for the King — GONE suddenly. For a moment, she could only nod, her fingers tightening around the hilt of the wooden sword that she still ( rather comically ) carried. “ —— yes, ” the word came out softer than the Valkyrie would have liked, lost for a moment on a sudden gust of wind. Clearing her throat she tried again, re - centering herself, finding that … royal bravado once more. “ Yes – you may but I wouldn’t use the word ‘ steal ’ around my … faithful subjects. ” She felt the color rise into her cheeks as she looked down to a black and white speckled kid that had wandered towards them and looked … rather interested in what might happen if she tested her tiny horns on the newcomer.
Chuckling, the Valkyrie stepped away from the fence and nodded for Trish to go — to keep the peace, resting the wooden sword on one shoulder as she took one backward step — “ Meet me at beside the hörgr at the far end of the field, ” her smile widened as she RELUCTANTLY turned away from Trish, her voice carrying over her shoulder, “ If you last that long —— ! ”
Words that had come from the Asgardian King caused heat to rise from Trish’s neck and to her face, not having expected the coy flirting to be reciprocated - at least that’s what all this looked like. The warrior had hundreds of years of practice on her, no doubt, and Trish -- a former talk show host -- found herself unable to think of a retort that would pull her back from her already flustered state. Instead, her fingers curled around the handkerchief the King made no effort to take back, and promised herself she would hold onto for as long as she is able to. Despite being focused on controlling her own adrenaline rush after the little moment, it did not escape her notice how Valkyrie’s face fell, and it took a great deal of willpower not to probe further. There might be a better place and time for that outside of a farming field.
Her own face brightened when she heard the yes --- there must have been many things that required the King’s attention, and getting to have her join her for dinner, and on the first day, too... It was another victory in a considerable list of many that morning. “Oh I don’t think they’d mind at all.” She said, eyes still focusing on Valkyrie’s smiling face, while her hand went for the scratch of the goat kid’s ears. It bleated and hopped away, making her laugh. Okay, maybe the goats were not so bad after all.
“See you,” she said, stepping further away to rejoin the boy with her eyes on the retreating figure until she disappeared, and then turned to the boy conspiratorially and asked: “Hey, what’s a hörgr?”
The rest of the day was just as eventful as the morning. Asta, seeing how Trish didn’t tire as fast as she had expected, decided to teach her how to make butter and bread, all the while talking about her old home and asking about Trish’s. She seemed content to be where she is, but was curious of Midgard outside of Norway, and for the first time that day Trish didn’t feel like she was an alien among them. Asta had a nurturing streak that made Trish feel right at home even without trying, and by the time all the work was done Trish felt more elated than she ever remembered being in the recent memory. Scrubbing off the mud and sweat after the work was done in the bath improved her mood further, despite the vague feeling of nerves when thinking about seeing the King again. Asta had helped her pack all the necessary things for dinner, modest as it was, and Trish packed a blanket they would sit on in her worn backpack. It would do.
It didn’t take her long to reach the meeting place, having gotten the instructions from the stable boy that morning, and her hair was down, still slightly damp from the bath earlier. Having grown up in glamour and Dorothy always nitpicking the way she looked at any event, it was safe to say that Trish felt... inadequately dressed for the evening. She had to remind herself often that it was just a picnic dinner by the sea. Not a big deal --- at least until she saw the other approaching and felt her heart get stuck in her throat.
“Against popular belief, I made it to the evening.” She called, eyes squinting slightly in the light of the descending sun. “Hi.” That’s all she could think of right now. It would have to do.