He Loves Me Not? (Part 2)
Imagine a close friend of yours divulging her love for Loki and objecting viciously to her affections. Later, you suddenly realize why you reacted so harshly: You have been madly in love with Loki for the longest time, long before your friend even knew him herself. When you realize he might return her feelings, you decide to unite the two, using your new matchmaker status as a reason to denounce your soul-felt love for him.
I scurried down the hall, cradling the yellow tulip in my palms. I'd glance out the window every so often. The ball room was visible through them.
I was hoping to spy Loki. He was coming of age this day. The kingdom was roused with excitement and his mother had arranged an enormous party in honor of him. I hadn't been directly invited - his father expected only the hierarchy of the Nine Realms to attend, for endorsement reasons I suspected - but Frigga was clever and generous in her layout of the celebration; she'd arranged for me to meet Loki in her gardens, in her daisy field.
Little did most know, there was a small opening between the intertwined branches of the two dogwoods that lingered by the outskirts of the vast garden. Beyond it, a shrouded corridor leading to a narrow portal.
And beyond that, the boundless, rolling hills of the daisy field. And get this: it was in another Realm. The third, if I'm not mistaken.
It was Frigga's haven. One hell of a well kept secret. In fact, it was the same place where Odin had proposed to her. How was I supposed to have known her intentions for Loki and I at the time? The queen was known for meddling where the opportunity of love was concerned, but I'd hadn't suspected in the slightest that she had specific designs for Loki and I.
As I rounded another corner, soft murmuring halted me. I stepped against the wall and banged the back of my head against the golden frame of a portrait of Loki sitting beside a large clay pot filled with brightly painted forget-me-nots. I muttered an explicative and rubbed my head.
I could vaguely make out the queen's dulcet tone as she spoke: "...hurry on before you are missed, my love."
"Mother, I don't quite understand." I snorted at Loki's tone of voice; always the cynic. "I know not why you wish for me to wander there alone."
"You will not be alone." The specter of mystery loomed in the queen's words. I peered around the corner. Loki's back was to me, but Frigga was gazing right at me. I froze, jaw hanging wide.
How in the Nine Realms did she know I was there?
She simply smiled and winked. I gawked. The queen had just winked at me. Could she do that? Wasn't there some kind of rule prohibiting that?
She refocused on Loki. "Think of this as my gift to you. You will understand once you are there. Now, hurry on, love, before you are missed."
And she strolled gracefully away, walking on a silk cloud. Loki looked after her for a moment before turning, shaking his head, and slipping out onto the bridge-like deck towering over the garden, silhouetted by the amorphous shadows of the extravagant flowers that dipped above him on suspended poles. I slowly edged nearer to the glass pane of the gigantic door and peeked at him. In one elegant motion, he had cleared a path to the stairs; the flowers and pots and trees parted like drawn curtains. I was in awe.
With a final shake of the head, he inclined his chin and nodded. Then, he started down the pathway and disappeared beyond the illuminated lanterns and garden decorations. Like a tidal wave, the plants moved to obscure the path.
I crept onto the terrace. I had no magic, so I was forced to push my way through the vegetation. I paused before breaking free and tried to count how many people were occupying the area. I was stunned - there were enough people to take over a small country! Loki had dissipated into the night - like I was surprised - but I noticed one of the Dukes from the Sixth Realm (I could tell because he looked like he'd raided Prince Vallium's wardrobe, down to the blonde bowl-cut) stumble forward and tumbled into the fountain. His feathered hat bubbled to the surface.
I chuckled; Loki. Had to be Loki.
Before I could start forward, a hand grabbed my arm. I turned, elbow flying. I barely stopped myself in time to avoid breaking Sif's nose.
"Sif!" I exclaimed on a relieved huff of air. I lowered my arm. "I could have knocked you out right there!"
"I'm glad to see you've practice your restraint," she said. Sif and I were...well, for lack of a better (and more degrading) word, acquaintances. We weren't close as we are now. "Before you ask me why I am here, don't. I don't even know why I'm here."
I stared blankly at her. "Okay, sure. Sounds right to me."
"The Allmother asked me to smuggle you through the crowd," she explained in that dictative voice of hers.
"I thought you said - " I began.
"And now I am telling you why I how I came to be here," she replied candidly.
I blinked and shrugged. "Fair enough. Incognito we go."
She whipped her cape around me and nodded approvingly. "That will have to do. Now let's get this over with."
As we moved through the crowd, I cupped my palms protectively around the tulip. I would protect it in wind, snow, or hail. It was something special, something I perceived as detrimental should one of the petals tear. Sif led me forcefully forward, glaring at anyone who dared to protest. I kept contemplating that, how Sif was so good at intimidating people, but whenever I tried, I ended up ruining something or knocking something over. Everyone took Sif seriously. Especially when she was in a bad mood like she was on that night.
What a contrast from me and that little flower.
Then I wondered: Had she ever liked someone before? Maybe a full-blown infatuation? I had the urge to ask as I fiddled with the bloom, but the irritated twist of her brows kept me from speaking. I couldn't speak above the crowd anyway. Nobles love to hear themselves talk.
We finally arrived before the portal and I released a sigh of relief. Sif stood in front of me, veiling me from wandering eyes with the stalwart width of her shoulders. I scowled; she was much taller than I.
"Thanks," I said. She nodded without glancing at me. I scrutinized her a moment longer. "Really. I'll return the favor when I can."
I hurried down the path and jumped through the portal. The other side was bathed in the romantic haze of constellations and moonlight. It took a few glances to finally spot Loki. He was standing further ahead, pacing a hill drowned in the purples and blues of the nebula and the soft yellow and white shimmering around his ankles.
I stood and watched him for awhile, bewildered to realize I was submerged in intense emotions I couldn't name. There was serenity, definitely that, but I couldn't name whatever else possessed my heart. I walked blindly toward him, completely forgetting where I was. The only thought that filled my mind was: This is why I'm here. For him. My prince.
He noticed me the moment before I reached the base of the hill. I couldn't make out his expression, but he relaxed, allowing his shoulders to droop leisurely. We could always act ourselves around each other.
"Loki," I breathed whimsically.
He returned my greeting with my own name. A small smile curved the corners of his lips as he watched me. "So it is you," he said distantly. "Then my..." He hesitated. "I had assumed I would be alone here. It seems I have assumed wrong."
"It seems so!" I chuckled.
"Ah...it was my mother who directed you here, was it not?"
I nodded, confused. Why did he seem so awkward? "It was. I - I really wanted to see you because, you know, I couldn't, so the Allmother told me I could meet you here because I couldn't at the palace because, you know, Odin and the whole...party..." Great, now I was awkward. "Loki, have you been here before?"
He shook his head. "No. I have not. I had no idea a place like this even existed." His eyes circled the area before returning to me. "Have you?"
His brows arched incredulously. "Then I assume you have."
"At least you assumed something right," I muttered. He glared pointedly at me. I laughed. "Hey, do you want to know something special about this place?"
He tilted his head. "Something special? I'm surprised you know anything at all."
"Yes, the - " I stopped and scowled at him. "You're an idiot," I growled, strolling past him to admire the swirling galaxy floating above us, emanating golds and royal blues. "What I was going to say was, the queen divulged that she was proposed to here."
"By my father, I presume?" The question was delivered stiffly.
"Yes," I replied, suppressing my amusement. Yet another glimpse of Loki's inner romantic: he couldn't stand the thought of anyone attempting to win the hand of his mother unless it was his father. "She said he proposed to her right over there - " I pointed to a distant hill. " - on that very hill over there."
Loki approached me. He leaned close to me to follow the direction of my finger. His short hair brushed my cheek and his warm, musky scent enveloped me. "What hill. That hill? With the small orange flowers?"
I snapped out of my daze and nodded awkwardly. "Uh - yeah. Yes, that hill, that's the one."
"How can you even tell the difference?" He mused. "They all look the same - that hill there has orange daisies - " I blinked; he could recognize the flowers were daisies. " - and so does that one. What if that's not the right hill?"
I snorted a laugh; he was really putting a lot of gravity into this argument. "I told you, I've been here before."
"I beg to differ," he said, "you mentioned nothing of the sort."
"Well, it was implied," I sighed. "You know what I mean. Frigga showed me that exact hill last I came."
"Last you came?" He sounded dubious. "You mean to say you've been here before?"
He pursed his lips. "Why did she not bring me here?"
I smiled crookedly up at him. "You never had much interest in flowers like your mother and I. You're always entranced with your books. She thought you might not appreciate it until you had a reason to." His eyes glittered down at me. "And now that you're not alone here, it's more appreciative because it's not just you enjoying it alone. It's the same with me. This is much more fun than just wandering around here on my own."
He nodded thoughtfully. His hair skimmed the length of my cheek twice. Then he straightened, but continued standing precariously close to me.
"It's strange," he breathed. "I had never considered flowers to be equal to books. They offered no knowledge or insight." He smiled. "But I see now that they do. They speak a language I have yet to unravel. Each bloom originates a beauty that is all their own. Each individual petal is a reflection of the heart and soul, the very emotions we thrive on."
My brows rose on their own accord. I was utterly intrigued and admired this romantic nexus of Loki's character. Never before had I known how truly dear and romantic he could be. This was my first encounter with his loving side.
"The daisy has many meanings," I said softly. "They can mean purity, beauty, patience - and my favorite, loyal love."
"I suspect the sun was high and the hills were rolling around them, vast and eternal," he murmured wonderingly. "Like their love."
Warmth spread through me. His schmaltzy words struck my very soul and a thought fluttered through my head - incredible. "Have you ever considered your own proposal?" I wondered. "Where you'd do it, how maybe?"
"I know not," he confessed. "Should I have considered it earlier, I might have chosen a location such as this." He smirked. "But I cannot relive proposals of the past - that would be most unoriginal."
"I'd always imagined I'd be proposed to with a bouquet or something," I murmured. "My fiance would slip the ring down one of the stocks and I wouldn't actually notice it until a bit later. Then I'd jump him and tackle him to the ground with kisses!" My heart fluttered just voicing the fantasy.
Again, he looked thoughtful. Something elusive darkened his expression. He smiled at me. "You're the realest person I know." My heart somersaulted. "So few are like you, and still those few cannot hold a candle to you."
I stuttered in astonishment, completely incomprehensible. Finally, I whispered a flustered, "Thank you. That...what you said means so much to me. I feel so insecure, you know? I'm not as strong as Sif or as beautiful as Freya or as intelligent as Ran. I'm not even from Asgard. It gets a little lonely at times."
"No." I started at Loki's ferocity. He stared determinedly into my eyes. "You are those things and more. You are the moon, the stars, and the sky itself. You are the very flowers that sweep at your ankles. You are a daisy - beautiful, pure, and loving." He paused and skimmed a finger down my cheek. "You are not alone."
I struggled with suffocating emotions. Something had kindled my heart and I felt weak at the knees. A choked noise escaped me. He must have thought I meant to contradict him, for his lips twisted and his eyes darkened in warning.
I shook my head, smiling. "Okay. Fine. I'm those things. But I'm not patient."
"That's fine," he said, heaving a complacent sigh. "I am."
I beamed at him. "You're my best friend, you know," I said in all seriousness.
He smiled shyly. "Thank you. Thank you..."
We stood there for some time, just staring at that hill, until I remembered the tulip.
Nervous, I caressed one petal with my thumb. "Er, Loki?"
He gazed down at me. A small smiled had graced his pale lips and his eyes were bright. He raised a hand and tucked an unruly strand of my hair behind my ear. "Hmm?" He breathed.
Had he leaned closer? I couldn't tell, but his nose was close to touching mine. I held up my palms and revealed the tulip to him. He sucked in a breath, eyes focused intently on the glowing bloom. Almost hesitantly, he molded his hands to the backs of mine and lifted it up to where he could examine it.
"What is it?" He queried. I couldn't decide whether he was appalled or fascinated.
"It's a tulip," I told him. "It's a flower from Midgard. In my homeland, they bloom once a year during a festival where we would celebrate our ancestors who have become stars to watch over us. It's called the Star Walker Celebration. Everyone sits under the summer night sky and they eat and they drink and they sing and dance and teach their children the constellations by name. And these little guys would pop up and we'd pluck one petal from a flower, make a wish, and pass it on."
I slowly parted my hands and let the tulips fall into his hands. He examined it closely. I swallowed.
"If it's not your taste, I can - " I started.
"This is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me," he whispered reverently. I opened my mouth to object and snapped it shut. Had I heard him correctly? His eyes rose to meed mine dubiously. He gazed at me with such admiration it tore at my heart. "I - thank you...thank you..."
I smiled at the gratitude welling in his voice. "Yeah," I said. "You're, uh...you're welcome."
I watched him play with the tulip a moment longer. He looked so entertained I had to fight the urge to leap forward and wrap my arms tightly around him. I glanced up. "It's a beautiful summer night," I drawled.
He looked up at me and smiled that rare but enchanting smile of his. "Can we?" He asked, thrilled but uncertain, like a child seeking reassurance.
I returned his smile with gentle veneration. "Of course we can. I didn't mention the weather for nothing."
And so we sat beneath the night sky and took turns plucking the tulip's petals. I asked him what he'd wished for, but he reflected my inquiries with a roguish grin. When the last petal remained, I handed it back to him. He refused it and attempted to give it back, so we compromised and plucked it together. We watched it flutter away with the breeze, my head lying on his shoulder, his cheek pressed against my hair, and I thought, I'm home.
-
"This is blasphemy!" Aventis roared as he stormed down the hall. "This is - ANOTHER DAMNED FLOWERPOT! Blasphemy, I say! Who is devastating the state of the floor - I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO THIS INSTANT. You there! Guards!" The guards propelled forward as if they'd been pushed. Aventis gestured to the floor. "Look at this dirt - and these flowers! They're littering this perfectly spotless floor!"
The guards leaned forward to inspect the mess but quickly straightened when Aventis stomped closer to them.
"You morons will catch this crime-doer or you will be sleeping with cows for the next week! Maybe the next month! I expect a thoroughly conducted investigation!" They nodded feverishly. "You do nothing anyway, you - ANOTHER DAMNED FLOWERPOT!" Aventis gawked furiously, back turned to the guards, who exchanged estranged glances before resuming their rigid positions when Aventis whirled back around. "Report to me when you find the damned criminal who is eviscerating the queen's flowers - JUSTICE, THY NAME IS AVENTIS." That said, Aventis started back down the corridor, but tripped on a mound of mulch. He regained composure quickly - and awkwardly - and pointed accusingly at the insidious mound. " And clean this mess up!"
"Mother's boy," one guard grunted.
I wasn't even aware of Aventis passing the hall I occupied. I was too focused on the tedious task at hand.
"Tell him, tell him not..."
I plucked another petal from the pansy and groaned: there was one petal left. Every time! Every single time - I'd even counted the number of petals on this one and still the last petal demand I tell Loki I loved him! I tore out the remaining two pansies and threw them on the ground before twisting my shoe on them.
"I hate flowers!" I hissed, passionately torturing the damned things. "Like the taste of my boot? Well, next time I'll use a flame thrower!"
Three guards peeked around the corner, watching me.
"She's mental," one said.
"She's definitely lost it," the second murmured.
"Maybe it's her time of month," the third suggested.
The other two oh'd and nodded in unison. When my head snapped up, they gasped and fled back down the opposite hall.
I tossed the carcass of a daisy behind me and brushed away the petals littering my lap. I surveyed the heaps of flowers around me repugnant. Daisies really were drab flowers. What I found attractive about them eluded me.
I kicked one of the rose bushes on the looming garden deck and accidentally kicked it too hard. It toppled over the side and landed on one of the gardeners. He wailed in confusion and wiggled like a dying fish under the wreckage and several other gardeners had to lift the plant off of him. I blanched and slowly sidled back into the palace.
Sif made an attempt to ask me why I was loitering by the hydrangeas outside her window. She pivoted and walked away when she realized I was punching the flowers and ripping them off and throwing them. Maybe I went to far when I torn one to pieces with my teeth.
Dusk was coming and I was tired. I'd managed to escape inquiry from the guards and my friends, but Loki had nearly cornered me in the foyer. I told him I needed to clean up - my dress was filthy - and used it as an excuse to high-tail it to my room. I don't understand why they call it 'high-tailing;' my tail was between my legs.
I sneaked into the banquet hall later that night. Just because I'd managed to evade Loki half the day didn't mean my luck was definite. As I crept toward the kitchen, I glimpsed Irileth. She was sitting by Thor on the far right end of the long table, dressed in an floral gown that was layered several times beneath its iridescent slip-on. She was staring hopelessly down the table at Loki. I crouched behind one of the banisters and watched them. He seemed oblivious of her presence at first. Irileth sighed and returned to her food, but I knew she was still stealing glances at him from the corners of her eyes.
Don't you dare! The thought thundered through my mind. You look away - now! I looked around for something to throw and nearly ripped the corner of a looming tapestry with the heel of my shoe. It billowed forward. The dinner guests cast a glance at my hiding place and I retreated further back into the shadows.
Abruptly, Loki's eyes swung to hers. He held her gaze for a moment, something perceptible flickering across his expression as he drank in her figure. She looked to be holding her breath, completely mesmerized by the - if I didn't know better - intimate caress of his eyes.
Why was I subjugating myself to this torment? I thought bitterly.
But I couldn't tear my attention away. This was my personal train wreck.
Finally, Loki turned away. But Irileth continued to watch him. She was limp in her seat as if just one look had pleasured her to an extreme. When she herself finally looked away, Loki looked back at her. He blinked. It was possibly the most innocent mannerism I'd ever witnessed - and the most adorable.
My heart thudded into the soles of my shoes - that timidly sweet expression would never be mine. Irileth owned it now. Slowly, I rose until I was standing. The weakness in my knees went unnoticed as a strong bolt of decadence sluiced through me. I wasn't even aware of my surroundings anymore.
I suddenly realized I didn't hate flowers all that much anymore. I didn't even blame them for sabotaging me. I blamed Loki.
I had been lamenting never finding a love interest before I joined Irileth in the Gazebo. The thought had stilted me; I'd only thought I felt something for Loki because I was attracted to the idea of a fantasy romance. Maybe I found it ideal. That's why I hated him so much now - he was the one who had sabotaged me.
As though he could sense me, his head lifted directly at me. He stilled. Then, he rocketed to his feet, ignoring the other guests, and hurried to round the table, eyes still trained intently on mine. One of the ladies from a visiting noble family, who had been trying to catch his attention since I'd arrived, bluntly asked him where he was going. Loki didn't reply; he appeared to be entirely transfixed on me.
I'd managed to elude him since the incident in the library. I wasn't about to be caught now - especially by someone I wanted to pummel into the dust.
I pivoted and and rushed down the stairwell into the kitchen. It was a labyrinth down there, with towering drawers and crowded with servants, and I was somewhat positive that I wouldn't be cornered. I zig-zaged through the isles like a white rat eager for cheese. The cooks threw confused glances my way, but didn't pause to question me. The kitchen doors swung open and I crouched behind one of the counters - Loki was standing in the doorway, emanating utter fury. With the cover of the counters, I ran to the bakery in the far back and swiped a loaf of freshly baked bread before bolting back up the staircase and back to my room, tearing the hem of the tapestry and running into a suit of armor in the hall.
I slammed my door shut and doubled over. I felt like I'd come within seconds of the end of my life! A wave of nausea rose in my throat and I choked down bile; I'd never run so fast or so hard.
The door shuddered with a heavy knock. My heart slammed against my chest. Two more followed and I rolled my head back onto my shoulder. It was him. Had to be.
"What is it?" I cleared my throat; my voice was hoarse.
Loki breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally, you're speaking to me. I haven't heard your voice in..." The doorknob twisted. "Darling, open the door."
I started at the pet name. It almost dissolved my resolve. Almost.
"I - I don't want to," I said. "I mean - not right now. I'm really tired. I haven't been feeling well." I faked a yawn. "I need to lie down."
"Is that so?" He sounded suspicious. "If I knew no better, I would assume you've been avoiding me. Your endeavors have been quite calculative."
"Avoiding you? Calculative?" I feigned disbelief. "That's a little exaggerated."
He sighed in exasperation. "Will you open the door? Please?"
"Will you jump out a window - please?" I cringed at my own words; I hadn't meant to sound so harsh.
He was silent for a moment. Then he finally growled, "Why will you not eat dinner with me?"
With him? Was he forgetting the others sitting at the same table? "I - I don't know. I just...it's uncomfortable, you know? That many people at the same table. You should probably return to entertain them. Besides - " My heart clenched. " - Irileth is probably worrying about where you've gone."
"I'm worrying about you."
I squeezed my eyes shut against an onslaught of sorrow as if I could simply block out the pain. How could one's heart hurt so wretchedly? It was howling in agony, begging for the torture to stop.
"I'm fine," I managed to choke out. "I'm just...really tired. I'm going to bed, so, uh...I'll...see you in the morning."
I think he knew it was a lie. I was hoping, wishing - praying - he would try to barge through the door and demand that I eat dinner with him in my own room if need be. But he didn't question me. Without another word, he walked away from me.
