A Trickster's Love

Chapter 40

The echo of an excited giggle woke Maryn from sleep. Blinking in the early morning sunlight, she looked around the bedroom trying to find the source of the laughter. It sounded so familiar and yet she couldn't remember where she had heard it. Pushing back the sheet that was covering her, she swung her feet out of bed and stood, the hem of the delicate, black lace nightgown she was wearing sliding down to settle around her ankles. The thin straps and long voile shawl that reached the hem of the nightdress would have done little to keep her warm had a hot breeze not been blowing in through the open doors of the balcony.

The same happy giggle that had awoken her sounded again and Maryn knew it was coming from the balcony. Picking up a gold filigree hair-comb from the small table beside the bed, she twisted her long, dark locks up and pinned them in place with the ornament. Barefoot, and with a strange sense of excitement, Maryn made her way to the doorway of the balcony.

The sight that met her eyes when she stepped out into the warmth of the sun made her heart start to beat frantically and she had to reach out a hand to steady herself against the doorway. Fenrir was sitting curled up in the sun against the balcony rail, his green gaze on two figures a few feet away. The smaller of the two was crouched down examining a little crimson flower, which must have fallen from the roses climbing the wall nearby. Her dark curls obscuring her face and the pretty white and forest-green gown she was wearing puffing up around her small frame, she poked at the flower's petals before squealing in delight when they moved by themselves as if by magic. Standing she launched herself at the male figure sitting cross-legged opposite her, his arms wrapping around her as he cradled her to his chest, tilting backwards as he threw back his head and laughed.

It was the sound of that laugh that undid Maryn. Pressing a trembling hand to her lips, she crumpled to her knees, her head bowed and her hand still gripping the golden column of the doorpost tightly.

"Mama?" the soft, worried cry pulled at Maryn's heart and she opened her eyes to see the little girl toddle toward her.

When she was close enough, Maryn reached out a shaking hand and cupped her rosy cheek, tears sliding silently down her face.

The child leant into her touch and Maryn bit her lip to hold her sobs at bay.

"Don't cry, Mama," the little girl said her own lip quivering and tears gathering in her emerald green eyes. She couldn't have been more than three summers old.

"Kari."

Maryn raised her eyes from the child to the other person on the balcony. He stood languidly, unfolding his tall frame from its seated position. He was wearing black breeches, a billowing white shirt undone at the neck, and an open, sleeveless green vest. His feet were bare and his hair longer than she had ever seen it.

"Loki," Maryn breathed his name and a warm smile lit up his face. She watched silently as he strode forward and swept the little girl up into his arms before he crouched down before Maryn and studied her.

The child, Kari, wrapped her arms around his neck and spoke to him, "Why is Mama crying, Papa?"

"She is happy and also sad, my little flower," Loki spoke gently to her before turning his bright gaze to Maryn again. "There is no need to cry, my love."
With a barely stifled sob, Maryn threw herself into his arms, curling into him as she reached out and carefully pulled their daughter into her embrace, the small child clinging to her and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Burying her face in the silky curls of her baby girl's hair, Maryn breathed in her soft scent and closed her eyes relishing having her in her arms.

After a few long moments of silence, Maryn opened her eyes and tilted her head up, looking at Loki, "How are you here?" she asked softly.

His hand came up and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "That doesn't matter now, sweet one. All that matters is that we are together."