TSOF: Revelation

Questions & Doubts

Anselma waited until after dinner to hunt Loki down and question him. She found him in the library. "Father?" She asked, sticking her head through the doorway and smiling shyly at him. Loki looked up from where he was reading and smiled at her. "Yes, Anselma?" She hesitated before entering the room and moving to sit in the chair across from her father. "May I ask you a question?" She mumbled, eyes trained on her feet. Loki examined her and frowned when he saw how nervous she was. He leaned forward slightly; his forearms resting on his knees. "You may ask me anything darling." Anselma glanced at him with a small smile. She straightened and met Loki's eyes as she drew a deep breath to speak. "Is there-why did-I'm not..." She trailed off after several attempts at phrasing her question. Screw it, she thought. I'm just going to say it. "Why would the flowers your grandmother planted bloom for me?" She asked quickly. She kept speaking before Loki could even open his mouth. "I mean I'm nothing special. I'm not nice or noble or honorable; I'm childish and rude and impulsive. I'm not some great person so why did they choose me? Why? I don't get it." She rambled, growing more frustrated with every word. Loki was watching her in shock. "I just don't get it Daddy." She finished miserably. Loki started at the name she had just called him. She had never called him anything but 'Father'. His heart warmed at that while simultaneously aching at how little his daughter thought of herself. "Oh my kœrr dóttir," he sighed sadly. "You are an amazing being. A true blessing to know and I could not be more proud to be your father. You are kind, sweet, caring, and loyal." He said earnestly. Anselma still looked doubtful. "You are a delight to have around, have a wicked sense of humor, and can trick the trickster god. You are nothing short of pure perfection. I can not think of any other being the flowers should have bloomed for." She bowed her head and looked away, uncomfortable at his words. Loki pulled her to him. She buried her face in his chest and gripped his shirt tightly, blinking back tears when he wrapped her securely in his arms. "It hurts that you do not see what I see." He murmured. She laughed, choking on a sob. "What is so funny?" Loki asked, brushing a hand through her loose curls. "Nothing." She whispered. "It's just that out of everyone who has ever told me something like that, you're the one I actually believe..." Loki beamed down at her. "Good." He said happily. "Good."

They both jumped when Clint suddenly stormed into the room, slung Anselma over his shoulder, waved merrily at Loki, and disappeared out the room. Loki laughed as Anselma protested at how she was being treated. The door shut cutting off her promise of revenge on Loki for not telling her the rest of the Avengers had arrived. Loki's laughter trailed off into chuckles as he relaxed back into his chair and flipped the page in his book. He knew no matter what Anselma wouldn't really prank him. At least he hoped she wouldn't...
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kœrr: dear
dóttir: daughter