Cleave | Loki x Reader

• IV •

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1587, Asgard

Y/n

As the years rushed by, more than sixty of them to be precise, I realised that time passed differently for the Vanir and Æsir, especially in youth.

Thor and I grew fond of each other quite quickly, even though leisure times shared with him were a luxury I rarely received. Instead, I was obligated to attend the girls' silly afternoon tea gatherings. Each. And. Every. Day. Despite being raised to become not only the wife of one of the princes but a shield maiden as well, it was still deemed improper for a girl to consort with boys exclusively.
Three more birthdays and I'd finally have the freedom to spend my days as I pleased – more or less so. The beacon guiding my days.

Naturally, there were activities I had to undertake solo, away from the company of any lads. While I trained weekly with the crown prince, my actual combat lessons were exclusively in the company of fellow shield maiden. On top, I had my studies of Midgard, for which Revna served as not only my tutor but my confidante just the same.
Often times I caught myself gazing out the window during these lessons – though Revna caught me even faster. Yet, there I sat, alone, watching my friends chasing one another across the royal gardens. Fandral chasing Volstagg and Volstagg chasing Thor – at which the game most times found its end due to Volstagg's inability to catch any of the others.
This one time – and this one time only – had I seen Loki amongst them, partaking in their favourite game. And he did so in the only way a mischievous mind like his would: hiding behind bushes, sneaking up on his playmates, teleporting out of their reach mere seconds before they would seize him. He played his own game of tag, without ever actually chasing or fleeing from anyone. He bent the rules, reshaped the game, much to their displeasure.
When Fandral had shoved Loki into one of the bushes he'd previously hid behind, Loki declined his brother's offered hand, rose to his feet on his own, and walked off without saying another word. He never attended another game thereafter.

You see, Loki and I had shared minimal interactions beyond our weekly seiðr lessons, leaving me acquainted with only a fragment of his character.
Mostly he kept to himself, absorbed either in perfecting his seiðr or immersed in books within a library section I, due to my youth, couldn't yet access.
Initially, I held hope he might join Thor and me during our scarce free time, but upon the others' arrival. he'd recline even further back into his seat, unfazed. With his nose held high, he would return to the book he was carrying around at the time.
I refrained from broaching the subject during our sessions; I was too young, and all I inferred from his behaviour was the wish to be left alone.
The only friend he seemed to have, and genuinely wanted to have, had been his brother. Often when I observed from my chambers' window, the two princes embarking on a ride out, I saw genuine joy on their features and good mischief in their postures. Revna had more than once recounted instances of maids discovering their gloves filled with sticky honey and tutors having their writing utensils stolen, only to then have them reappear on the very edge of the Bifröst.

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'See? Hófvarpnir doesn't seem particularly enthused about your plans either,' I muttered, attempting to mask my brittle voice underneath a snide tone.
'They are not my plans, lítið snjókorn; they are your mother's,' Revna replied while securing a saddle onto the winged white steed.
'You still haven't disclosed the true purpose behind Mother's decision to delegate her responsibilities onto you.'
'Are you not aware of your mother's desire for retirement so that she may devote herself more to her duties to the Vanir – our people? Ever since the tragic demise of the King and his sole heir, your mother bears a crucial role in safeguarding the realm, lest the Queen recovers from her profound state of grief and takes up her responsibilities again.'
'And it's your duty to serve as a communicator and retrieve information concerning the well-being of the realms, I know. But how often are you to be gone? And for how long? I've read that Niflheimr is more than a month's journey away!'
'My lítið, I have been granted permission by your mother solely to visit Midgard. Other attendants of Gnà and Queen Frigga will oversee the remaining realms. You must have been made aware already that only your mother and the Allfather himself have unrestricted access to travel the Nine Realms; the rest of us require their consent.'
'So your absences won't be overly prolonged, then?'
'No, lítið, I'm only required to run errands thrice a century, and I assure you I won't be away for more than two months at a time. I can assure you that, snjókorn.' Leaning down to my level, her gentle hand tucked the silver strand of hair behind my ear before resting atop my shoulder. 'I believe your mother chose me for Midgard so that I can offer you something much more tangible than a hundred books worth of lore on your father's realm. Wouldn't you like that?'
Her words settled in my mind, causing my eyes to brighten instantly. All I remember is a warm embrace and a loving kiss on the top of my head before witnessing Hófvarpnir vanish into the clouds. Her return, a mere seven days later, left me quite literally electric with nerves.