Recompense [Fólkvangr End, Book 1] [Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Twenty-Two

Author's Note: Oh heyyy. I don't know. I don't have anything to say, but these notes are sort of habit. Really though, if you're reading this and I haven't heard from your before, please, drop a comment and let me know what you think! Shout out to Isitmadness--I really think you should go read her Loki fanfictions, Winter Sunshine and Autumn Leaves! Now time for some foreshadowing and other mischievous things! Okay, rant over and goodbye until later!

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Rolling over in the morning to find myself face-to-face with Loki is not something I ever planned on happening, let me just say. Especially not when I can’t remember what happened last night. Bits and pieces sure, but laying here with Loki’s arm draped over me, his face serene and actually kind of fucking adorable as he sleeps, I start to worry. I have always been a sucker for an adorable face. It’s almost kind of painful how freaking cute he is, no worries, just sleeping peacefully. His anguish goes away and it just the innocent man inside. I close my eyes tightly as he begins to stir, hoping he won’t know how I watched him sleeping.

“It is foolish to try and trick the trickster, Valkyrie,” Loki mumbles, his voice heavy with sleep.

I groan and open my eyes, my vision swimming, my stomach churning violently. “I’m going to be sick.”

I try and roll myself out of the bed, but Loki catches me and the next thing I know I am on the floor in his bathroom. He stands back as I empty my stomach into the marble toilet. I let out an inhuman grunt, sinking into the cool floor. I press my cheek to the ground and roll my head so I don’t have to see Loki and feel worse than I already do.

“Ugh, just leave me to die,” I groan, clutching my stomach. Loki laughs.

“You are not capable of dying, you forget,” he corrects.

I roll my eyes, “It was a joke, Loki.” I hesitate, my mind trailing back to his arm around me, waking up in bed with him. “What happened last night?”

“You became extremely inebriated, started a fight—”

“No, no, I remember that…”

“Ah, well, you begged me to kiss you, and then after that you became entirely incoherent, lamented your life choices, asked me if you could call me Papa Smurf, interrogated me about my scars, though relatively unsuccessfully, to my credit, and then right before you passed out you starting prattling on again about eavesdropping, I believe.” He believes. What an ass. He remembers everything from last night like the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed had no effect. I find that to be far less than fair.

“What about eavesdropping? That doesn’t make sense,” I muse. He shrugs.

“You said it had an innate ability to get you into peril, though I am not sure to what exactly you were referring,” Loki says passively. The pain in my head suddenly doubles and I can’t find the power to think about that drunken paradox right about now.

“So, we never…we didn’t do anything, right?” I ask, swallowing hard, my throat raw. That is my biggest concern. When you wake up hung over next to the God of Mischief, you are bound to have some concerns.

“Of course not, Valkyrie. I am not one to take advantage of drunken women, especially not you,” he sniffs. I don’t have time to be insulted because my head is back in the toilet, emptying whatever could possibly be left in my stomach. I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand, determined to get myself a shower as soon as possible.

"Did you...uh, did you answer my question about your scars?" I ask, looking up at him through my hair. He looks at me with a strange expression on his face that could probably pass for sympathy.